Cause I really like this story. I like this story and I think I'm a good writer. And I wanna re-post it and finish it, and...validate myself. ...Maybe...

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Chaos breathed a slow, outstretched tremble of breath, letting his fingertips drum a bored, rhythmic melody across his desk. He could feel it staring at him right in the face; mocking him with an invisible, tormenting grin. An idea. Not just a regular idea, pitched from stale and flimsy plans, or an idea drawn from battered and broken concepts- but an idea so fresh and so new it brought the science fair to it's knees. An idea that would place him under the glimmering twinkle of Wile E. Coyote's grin and more importantly; and idea that would put Calamity's smug, arrogant smirk underneath his heels.

Chaos loathed the science fair much as one might loathe a root canal without the anesthetics. Second place ribbons and trophies littered the box at the far end of his closet, a treasure chest glimmering with failure and defeat. Second place was the first loser after all, and Calamity, loving as he was, had no mercy in his ridicule. The science fair had been turned to a dueling ground of razor sharp intellect. They stabbed and slashed and parried with experiments, casting aside any and all foolish enough to dare claim an entry.

For the past several years, Chaos had no such luck in victory. No such perch high over looking the trampled entrees as his brother annually enjoyed. The sweet sugary fruit of achievement would forever remain mysterious to him unless he could come up with SOMETHING. He leaned back in his chair, balancing precariously atop two of the four legs needed to stand upright, and listened to the squeaks of the wood. He listened to the weaving silence in his head and the distressing lack of thoughts tumbling over one and other to take audience in his mind. He was coming up with nothing at all.

The frustration peaked to fury when he caught sight of a crimson nose, plump round muzzle and short, slender frame parked in his doorway. Arms crossed, ears perked, and a smug smile of satisfaction etched across thin lips. A coyote, much like himself, only slightly older. Slightly wiser. Slightly smarter. Only slightly. So he'd like to think.

[Need a hand. A thought. An idea. A prayer?] came an assorted flash of signposts. Each one dropped and replaced with another from behind the canine's back. Each more irritating than the last and each made specifically to press button's Chaos tried had to keep away from Calamity. The younger genius twisted quietly in his chair with a single solitary motion; a solitary finger pointed in the direction of Calamity's room. Leave me alone. But Calamity only grinned that smug, scientific grin of his and meandered past the doorway that lead to Chaos' room, almost dancing as he walked- pace pierced with a smile he couldn't hide. Chaos frowned.

[Just trying to help. Been almost a year since my last trophy and I just wanted to over you at LEAST a snowballs chance this time. Maybe you're invention will spark an interest in the judges. MAYBE you'll take home a prize. MAYBE you'll beat me this year. Who knows!] The taller coyote chuckled, holding up another sign with Chaos read with increasing aggravation.

"Calamity. I'm gonna count to ten. TEN. Beat it!" The puppy snarled, and Calamity laughed a haunting, snickering giggle of irritation. He waggled a single finger at his little brother and tapped him on the nose.

[Temper temper dear brother! I'm not here to upset you! Just offering my favorite little brother some much needed advice!] The signpost read in earnest. The fur on the coal nosed puppy spiked slowly, raised with a bubbling fury ready to burst from the kettle and boil over in vicious, uncontrolled violence.


"I DON'T need, or want your advice. I don't want your help!" Chaos hissed, biting back a snarl through grit teeth. Calamity had set the trap and Chaos sprung it gloriously. Hook line and sinker. Check. Mate. Predictable with 98% accuracy, Calamity had predicted all of this- and all he had to do was flip the sign he was holding around to reveal the message that would push Chaos over the edge.

[Then how do you expect to beat me?] eight simple words, placed together in such a way that a terrible thunder crackled inside of Chaos. Burning and sparking and snarling to get out. It all happened in slow motion, as if molasses had been stirred into the fabric of reality. Chaos pounced; arms outstretched, eyes narrowed, fangs bared and eager to sink into his brother's flesh. Calamity had well prepared himself for the explosion of violence from his brother's core and sidestepped casually, gleefully watching his brother trip and stumble forward, bouncing meekly into the hallway where Calamity had once been standing.

"Hehehehehe" Calamity's chuckle echoed cruelly along the walls of his brother's room. He leapfrogged over the stumbled puppy and pressed a thumb against his nose, wiggling the digit in a childish fashion and blew a raspberry at the poor puppy on all fours. Then he was gone. Disappeared through the veil of superiority that cloaked him like a fine mist of smoke. Immune to any trifle insult Chaos could hope to hurl at the elder canine, Calamity was long gone and past the point of a retort, leaving Chaos miserable and beaten.

He sat in that hallway for a long time, thoughts too jumbled and distorted to even make them out. There was only a powerful set of emotions washing over him, like waves at sea; rough and unforgivable. Fury for the fire of his ire his brother so easily stoked. Torment for the accuracy of his words. Miserable suffering for the anticipation of the events to transpire. Reluctance and fear, wrapped in a poisonous sense of depression- he was never going to win. There just wasn't any way to do it- there was no way to pierce that hyper intelligence that seemed to cake Calamity's every action. The only thing Calamity had ever consistently failed at doing was...

And there it was. That spark. That itty bitty teeny tiny, little spark. It danced and flickered in front of Chaos' eyes, but by gum there it was! It was simple. It was disturbingly simple and yet so needlessly complex, Chaos had a hard time initially coming to terms with what he was holding. It was impossible, yet the only solution. An impossible improbably that was quickly being turned into a probable possibility. Things would go quickly now. The little spark of an idea turned into a bright, flickering flame, dancing and bursting with potential. He had wasted so much time thinking within the box, so safe and secure within it's boundaries, he'd long forgotten how to put the box outside and think like a crazy person. Like a coyote. Like Chaos. Radical, uncontrollable, and sweet. The puppy sprang to his feet, spilling items in his room into a backpack he'd grabbed hanging from the door frame. He'd already lost his mind to racing thoughts. He was outside next; his feet screaming as the dashed across darkened pavement and shaded sidewalks of the spring evening. His backpack stuffed and plumped with various objects and items from his room. He had only the bare fringes of a plan- what he was doing ,but he'd always been good at thinking on his feet. Making it up as he went along, spying the critical points of success and plucking them from the air like one might snatch flowers from the grass.

He was no longer planning to beat Calamity Coyote in the science fair; he was going to obliterate him.