"Local Park Hosts Annual Teddy Bear Picnic: Dozens Injured."

Eight O'clock in the morning. Benson had gotten Mordecai and Rigby up bright and early, instructing them to see him in the kitchen, where the newspaper with this headline emblazoned in large, bold letters awaited them. He'd read the title to them, repeating it as if to make sure it sunk in, the read the rest of the article to them aloud. Or, more accurately, roared it at them.

The story read like one long grocery list of horrors, every one of which Benson punctuated with a slam of his fist on the table. It wasn't really necessary; all of it was still fresh in the pair's minds from when it happened yesterday. When all the madness had been going on, the gum machine seemed ready to explode. Instead, something odd happened inside him, and once he seemed to have reached the peak of his fury he looped right back around to eerily tranquil. For the rest of that night he'd said nothing and sat alone in a dark room.

It apparently hadn't improved his mood.

When the article finally finished, Benson looked up from the paper, staring the two of them down as if daring them to speak. Rigby foolishly took that dare.

"They totally blew that out of proportion."

Benson clenched the side of the table to keep his hands from wrapping themselves around the coon's neck. "No, Rigby. They didn't."

"They HAVE to be counting the teddy bears or something dude, those numbers are waaaay too big."

"Do you have ANY IDEA how many lawsuits-"

"-Benson, I'm telling you-"

Rigby stopped when he felt a wing on his shoulder. Mordecai was looking down at him, gravely shaking his head 'no'. Benson's face seemed to have darkened three shades just hearing the little vermin's voice, and the bird didn't want him digging them any deeper.

The raccoon dismissed the gesture; turning to Benson he raised his hands in front of him in a placating gesture. "Listen, I know what you're thinking."

"You don't know what I'm thinking." Their boss growled darkly with a glare that could melt steel. "If you did, you'd be running!"

"Benson, dude," His voice had the nonchalant, chummy tone of someone speaking to an old buddy rather than a furious overseer. That pissed Benson off more than anything he could've said. "It's really not that big a deal, see-"

"You," Benson cut off, finger pointed almost in a stabbing motion at Mordecai, "I'd better not see for the rest of the day. YOU," the threatening digit turned on Rigby, "In my office. Five minutes."

The machine stood for a moment as if to say more, then turned and marched off, leaving the slackers to stew.

"Sucks to be you." Mordecai drawled as soon as he was sure Benson was out of earshot. He drew a finger across his neck in a throat-slitting motion to illustrate just how much it sucked to be Rigby.

"This is BS! Why am I the only one getting in trouble?"

"Probably 'cuz your mouth was running faster than your brain, dude. I tried to stop you."

"Whatever! He's probably just going in alphabetical order. I bet you're next!"

"Uh huh." The bird shrugged. "Anyway, I think I'm gonna head out and try to lay low for today. You should go now before Benson has time to get himself even more worked up."

"Fiiiiine."

The two waved eachother off, and headed for their respective destinations.

Rigby peeked into Benson's office slowly, as if he thought he could get a glimpse without getting caught. Unfortunately for him, his boss heard the old door creak immediately, and curtly said, "Come in," without looking up from his files. Caught. The raccoon groaned in aggravation, strolled in and took a seat. This time, the gumball machine's head snapped up at him. "Close the door when you come in!" The little mammal scurried back to shut the offending portal, glowering in annoyance while his face was turned away. Awesome, Benson was in one of those moods where he'd nitpick at every little thing for something to yell at him about.

Again, the raccoon seated himself, arms crossed childishly. Benson sat directly opposite, his large metal desk separating them. There was little of interest other than scattered paperwork, some staff photos, and... whoooah, one of those clacky ball things!

"You know why you're here," Benson began, "Right Rigby?"

"Uh huh." Clack-clack-clack-clack.

The far off tone of the employee's voice said it all. Benson glared straight at him, watching the raccoon's eyes follow the distracting desk toy as if hypnotized. He shot up like a bullet, toppling the clacker with one hand. With the other, he grabbed Rigby by the chin, forcing his gaze upward to meet his eyes.

"Crap like THIS is why! You have no respect for authority! No respect for property, no respect for anything!"

Rigby wriggled in the man's stern grasp, afraid he was going to hit him at this rate, but Benson held firmly, forcing eye contact as he continued, "If you don't shape up, and FAST, I'll make sure you're fired this time!"

Of course, they both knew that what he actually meant was he would submit yet another scathingly worded report to the ever growing Mordecai/Rigby file, which Pops would eventually turn into an origami bird. Benson didn't like to admit it, but as the owner Pops was ultimately the one with the final say in their employment, and he liked the duo enough to overlook just about everything they did.

No. No, this time called for a different solution. A thought crossed his mind, and he smiled darkly.

"You know what? Forget that. I have a better idea."

Rigby grimaced, knowing exactly where this was heading. Extra work, or a pay deduction, or both.

The machine sneered. "How about some gum?"

Whaaaaaaaaaat?

Rigby struggled again, not liking the implications of that at all, but his wimpy frame was no use against the cold steel grip. Something occured to him, and subdued, nervous laughter shook his body. "Dude! Haaaaaaahah... Dude, you're joking, I get it."

"I don't joke." The gumball machine either had the world's greatest poker face, or was dead serious.

The raccoon swallowed, hard. "Couldn't I just work off the debt...?"

"This isn't about the money! Get down, and get started."

Benson insistently tugged him downward, the candy slot now at Rigby's eye level. The raccoon regarded it as if it were a coiled snake ready to strike, but Benson urged him forward. No escape. Tentatively, the younger man took hold of the crank, looking up at Benson for approval. When the candy dispenser nodded, Rigby gingerly turned the handle, rewarded with the metallic plinks of gumballs working their way down the chute. He opened the metal doorflap; two bright red gumballs greeted him.

Once again, the little mammal looked up at his boss, uncertainty plain on his face. An agitated "Get on with it," spurred him to action, he clumsily fumbled with the flap and scooped the balls into his mouth in one quick motion. As the candy coating touched his tongue he identified it as... cherry? Yeah. Cherry, but with a bitter tinge to it he couldn't place. For a moment he worried about forever associating the flavor with Benson, with whatever the hell they were doing, before the aformentioned snapped him back to the business at hand.

"Don't just put 'em in your mouth and sit there you clod!"

"Awwiiight awight," the coon's words came out garbled with the sugary orbs in his mouth, "Don' geyya pannies inna twist."

The petulant retort belied his nervousness. Carefully, he swiveled his tongue, rolling the balls around on the wet muscle. He heard Benson hum appreciatively. How the hell did that work? Did he actually feel the gum somehow? Was this some kind of sick excuse for a joke? Would he ever be able to chew gum again without feeling dirty? Or-

"What's the holdup?"

Rigby shrank under the dispenser's stern frown and returned his attention to the candy, lolling them back and forth, up and down. When his teeth grazed one, he swore he heard an approving grunt from the older man. It was gum, after all; was he supposed to...?

Testing the theory, Rigby gingerly sank his teeth in, only enough to strain the hard outer shell. Benson could take what he percieved as teasing no longer, taking hold of the coon's head and pressing his jaw down the rest of the way. The mammal yelped in surprise but started to chew vigorously now that his guess was confirmed.

"Much better..." Benson sighed in delight, "You're not half bad at this, Rigby."

His employee mumbled unintelligibly as the machine twirled lazy circles in his fur, mind going blank as Rigby lavished attention on his gumballs. He needed more. Benson tugged urgently, maneuvering the surprised raccoon in front of his gum slot and pressing his face into it; in the same motion he took hold of his knob, adding another two gumballs rolling straight into Rigby's warm mouth. His hips moved forward eagerly as if possessed with a will of their own; he cranked out two more.

Somewhere, dimly, he felt Rigby's hands on his hips; trying to steady himself, or make the gumball machine ease off? It didn't matter anyway, his mind was elsewhere, wallowing in the sensations as the slacker worked his magic.

"God..!" The word came out in a rough growl, "Maybe you're good for something after all." Desperate fingers wrapped clumsily around the metal knob. More gumballs found themselves in the gooey mass.

The raccoon whimpered around a mouthful of gum which was rapidly growing too large to fit in his maw, doing his best to keep up. Just when he felt no more was going to fit whatever Benson did, the gumball machine's grip loosened, letting Rigby sit back up. The older one seemed almost drunk, his legs wobbly underneath him, the arm securing the coon's head trembling lightly.

"Blow it." His voice came out husky and breathless.

Rigby managed a "Whmm?" garbled by the gum wad.

"I said blow it! Blow a bubble!"

Yet more questions flooded his brain, but Rigby pushed them aside. With some difficulty, he moved the wad into position, flattening it on the roof of his mouth and poking a thin film of it forward. Blowing bubbles was one of the few useless talents he'd always had on Mordecai, though at this point he was pretty sure gum was gonna be ruined for him forever. With practiced gentleness, the creature exhaled warmly, rhythmically. The gum pocket began to expand slowly, surely. It soon almost completely obscured Rigby's face, barely visible behind swollen pink.

The gum dispenser bit his bottom lip as the orb grew ever larger, drumming his fingers impatiently on Rigby's head, beads of sweat forming in anticipation. It was beginning to twitch violently, stretched too thin to support itself, teetering on the edge of exploding.

Rigby blew a final, warm lung's worth of air.

In the silence that had blanketed the room, the pop of the bubble rang out like a gunshot. The candy burst in a sticky mess of pink all over the smaller man's face, thick gobs of it clinging to his fur and in his hair, larger bits falling in thin strings from his mouth.

"Uuuugh!" The raccoon cringed, rubbing his face and only spreading the mess for his efforts, "Dude, I think you got gum in my eye..." Inwardly, Rigby repeated that to himself. Gum. Just gum.

"Quit whining," Benson shot curtly as he fished around in his desk drawer for a cigarette, in no mood to have the moment spoiled, "Or I'll make you swallow it next time."

Rigby opened his mouth to protest the 'next time' part of that sentence, before deciding it was better not to press his luck.

Even he could learn, eventually.

-Note: Oh god oh god this was a request for someone I swear