In Which Russell Ferguson Attempts to Paint a Picture

By Drizzle117

The paint hit the canvas like a nuclear explosion, always coming out chaotic and hectic. The orange paw holding the paintbrush faltered before the painter began to rapidly stroke the brush over his mistakes, trying (and clearly failing) to make it look better.

It didn't work – the smears only grew more exaggerate and obvious. Finally the artisan let out a groan of frustration and tossed the paintbrush down on the ground, even going so far as to stomp on it with one little foot.

"It's no use!" the hedgehog grumbled, repeatedly pushing on the brush with his paw. "These pictures are all coming out so stupid! How did I ever let Minka talk me into painting anyw—"

"Is this your picture, Russell?" a chirpy voice piped up from the top of the canvas.

Russell Ferguson froze as he saw his friend Minka Mark swing down in front of him, getting a better angle his horrid piece. "M-Minks," he stuttered, shuddering as the pink monkey inwardly criticized his work. "I'm…I'm…It's not very good…"

To Russell, at least, it was more than 'not very good.' It was simply a disaster to any pet that was as strict about organization as he. Random pink lines were blurred for an unsuccessful background, with bright blue dots splattering the front and green swirls adorning the rest. As Minka continued to study it, the hedgehog hung his head, knowing he had failed. He had told her he could paint, and clearly he couldn't.

Russell, you failure.

Minka finally finished staring at the painting, and looked at him with dead serious eyes. "I don't like it…I love it!" Grinning from ear to ear, the monkey flung down and landed atop a shocked Russell's head.

"You…you actually enjoy it?" he stuttered, not quite sure he was believing what his ears were hearing.

"Well, duh! It looks just like one of mine, and everyone says I'm a master of painting, right?"

Russell couldn't convey how excited he was by this statement into simple words. The hedgehog simply sat there, stuttered in disbelief, as Minka cheered, swinging around the painting that he had previously been convinced was a failure. So maybe he had succeeded after all?

Seeing her smile, so wide and so bright, he had to agree. Yes, he had succeeded. Maybe not in the way he had hoped, but he had succeeded.

And that was the best feeling in the world.