Work Text:
The Toothbrush Dilemma
by
Pirate Turner
Morph sighed as he scrubbed away at the mildew-encrusted floor of the bottom bathroom. "I just don't know where my brain was today," he lamented with a weary shake of his head and a forlorn look at the toothbrush he held.
"I do."
"You do?" he questioned his partner in crime.
"Yup," Jubilee replied. "Our brains were in our big toes when Big B stepped on them."
Morph shook his head. "Damn that Bishop! It's just too bad that our toothbrushes had to pay the price."
"Mine ain't. I'm cleaning this sucker up and swapping it with Monet's when she's not looking."
The End