A/N: I was battling writer's block for another fanfiction I'm working on, and this is what I came up with. I liked it so I decided to edit it and keep it as a one-shot. Written from Dot's point of view, it's fluffy and hopefully a little funny, and I hope you enjoy it. Please feel free to review, as it's much appreciated.

It was a dark and stormy night... what a way to start a story, so cliché. But really, it was dark, and rather stormy. It was night too, so what I say is true. As such, I took off the raincoat Wakko had forced me into and ran outside. My brothers followed happily; well, Yakko did. Wakko was in one of his moods, and so carefully donned a bright yellow rain jacket and hat. I could tell he was bracing himself against the storm when he came out. It was for that very reason he somehow managed to slip on the wet outer ring of the tower and flip ungracefully over the side. I gasped as he yelled out in surprise, tumbling head over heels towards the ground – landing squarely in Yakko's arms. My eldest brother set him on his feet, then motioned for us to follow as he bounded across the lot. I followed eagerly, wondering what sort of exciting mischief he had planned, barely taking note of Wakko's small grumble as he trudged after us.

We stopped at the corner of Scratchy's psychiatry building; Yakko putting a finger to his lips in warning. By the time we had crept around to the door of Plotz's office building the rain had doused our fur and the chill of the open air was biting ravenously at our soaked skin. I didn't notice. Nor did Yakko, it seemed, but the misery of it all was clearly etched on Wakko's face, even though his raincoat protected him from the rain and low temperature. Yakko quietly eased open the door, and we walked inside, leaving puddles of water to adorn the floor. I thought the water did wonders for the look of the carpet, but when Plotz found the damp blotches in the morning, he probably wouldn't agree. This was fun already.

"Come on, Wakko," I whispered, eager to see what exactly it was my oldest brother had in store for Plotz. Wakko mumbled something in the direction of an insult, and stuck out his tongue at me. In return I snatched his arm and dragged him down the hall after Yakko. We came to a stop in front of a heavily padlocked green door with a brand-new shiny plaque that read 'Janitor's Closet'. Why would there be so many padlocks on a janitor's closet. Why would there be any locks at all? Yakko went to work on the locks as Wakko and I stood guard on either side, and in moments all of the padlocks lay heaped on the floor. He swung the door wide, revealing...

Girl-Scout cookies. A huge, walk-in closet full to the brim with packages of various Girl-Scout cookies. Wakko's eyes widened in wonder at the sight before him. Yakko stepped aside, waving a hand towards the open closet and bowing in Wakko's direction.

"All yours, Wakko," Yakko said, straightening up, a sly smile lighting up his features. I hadn't seen Wakko so excited in days. He bolted into the closet, rain hat and jacket forgotten on the floor of the hall. We heard the sound of voracious munching from within, followed closely by the brother in question shooting back out of the room in a frenzy, holding a package high in the air for all to see.

"I found peppermint patties!" He exclaimed, dashing back inside just as quickly as he had come. I turned my gaze to Yakko, who was laughing quietly. He glanced back at me, then reached into the closet and pulled out a bright coloured box containing chocolate chip cookies. Ripping it open, he took one for himself and handed me the rest, nibbling the cookie with a small smile as he leaned leisurely against the wall. I took the box and pulled out a couple of cookies, eating them simultaneously, wondering about the existence of the cookies in the first place.

"I thought Plotz didn't allow Girl Scouts to sell cookies in the studio," I said out loud, more of a question than a statement.

"He doesn't," Yakko said. He pulled me into a conspiratorial huddle and spoke in a mock scheming tone. "Technically, these don't exist. So Plotz won't be missing them when he finds his secret stash is empty." I grinned. Plotz couldn't do anything to get back at us if he wanted to, at least not without admitting he was buying Girl Scout cookies. It was perfect.

Wakko bounded out of the closet, his stomach considerably larger than when he had entered. But that wasn't all that had grown. The contented smile on his face was in sharp contrast to the gloomy mood he had entered the building in.

"Feeling better, sib?" Yakko asked. Wakko nodded drunkenly, and it was then that I realized why our revenge on Plotz had taken an alternate route from the usual destruction of his personal office or the flooding of his desk drawers with water and goldfish. I smiled as Yakko replaced the padlocks on the door to the now-ravaged closet. We made our way back down the hall, out the front door, across the lot (in the continuing rain) and back into the tower, Yakko carrying Wakko's forgotten rain-wear all the while. We spent half an hour making water-art on the carpet before wrapping ourselves in towels that we'd pinched from Scratchy last month. I don't think he knows they're missing yet, either that or he doesn't care. Wakko was the first to fall asleep, wrapped in his blue and red chequered towel on the floor, snoring lightly. Yakko picked him up carefully, so as not to disturb his slumber, and set him on the top bunk of the bed.

"Goin' to sleep, sis?" he asked, a hint of amusement hidden in his tone. I hadn't realized my eyes had been closed, but I nodded and crawled into my bunk.

"G'night," I mumbled.

"Good morning, you mean," he answered, tucking me in and climbing into his own bunk, switching off the lamp that had provided the scant amount of light we'd been using to make shadow-puppets on the walls. I mumbled contentedly in response.

Before falling peacefully into a state of deep sleep, my mind wandered momentarily back to the events preceding this point. I couldn't really believe that it had taken me this long to figure it out. All of those occasional outings of sabotage (at Plotz's expense) that hadn't seemed to fit into our normal routine... they were clever little schemes of my eldest brother's invention to get either Wakko or me out of our foul moods. They seemed pointless at the time, but now I recall each and every one being fun and enjoyable – and I always felt better afterwards. I smiled as I let myself slip into slumber. He really was a great brother.