#carl!!!

Yes, I wrote and expanded this crack fic. No, I'm not sorry 😂😂😂.

for @lyselkatz 💜💜💜

Carl never expected this to happen. Though there was a lot Carl never expected to happen that often did happen. For one, sugar being rationed. What did it take to get some extra sugar around here?

He missed before all of this happened. He didn’t understand why sugar of all things was rationed. They weren’t going to war over sugar. But that didn’t stop Carl from finding other ways Normandy was loud. And scary. He didn't want to be there. One minute, he was crawling along the beaches of Normandy. And the next, he found himself back in 1942 in Toccoa.

Not again. This had been happening a lot lately. Carl thought it was a dream. Or maybe a nightmare. But no, it wasn't a nightmare. It was just another typical day in his life. Now, he was back at Toccoa.

And it was sweltering. No surprise there.

He didn't like Georgia all that much. It was too hot and there weren’t a lot of places to swim when they weren’t training. Most of the time, he spent his days under Sobel’s bed, trying to keep out of the way. He didn't see anyone around. Then he heard it.

Footsteps pounding against the ground like a herd. Carl knew this couldn't be good. He turned and saw Easy coming right towards him.

Carl moved as fast as he could to get out of the way. He didn’t want to get stepped on. So he hurried as best he could. But the footsteps were getting louder.

Carl was sure this wasn’t going to end well. But then he wasn’t on the ground, he was in the air. Skip had picked him up and put him in his pocket. Carl was glad he was in Skip’s pocket.

There was always stuff to keep him busy. And by busy, he meant there was plenty of stuff to hide in his shell. But Skip didn’t need to know that.