Crap. I didn’t hear him come until he opened the door, and at that moment it was useless to either try to turn the vid off or scramble for the Kleenex box to dry the wetness. I turned to my gaping brother, his devastatingly horrible haircut and spaceship t-shirt. It was better than his hair, anyway.
“So this is what my big sis indulges in,” he smiled broadly.
His grin faltered when I got up, shut the door, and pushed him against them with ease. My red, weepy face closed to his.
“If you tell anyone, I’ll tell everyone that this unambiguous thing found a little while back in the fridge was yours.”
He gulped and I saw genuine fear in his eyes. Jackpot.
“But it wasn’t-”
“Oh, we know that. Who do you think they’ll believe?” I smiled nastily.
“…You win.”
“Remember about the fridge. Now out,” I shoved him.
Then I cursed myself and locked the door. Finally, I went back to dreaded work: “Human distortions of animal behavior in popular culture” essay which, to my demise, involved hilarious dancing chinchillas.