#lee!trophy

-

Finale Day of season 2 of Inanimate Insanity had finally arrived. In celebration, the show’s contestants were attending a party thrown at Hotel OJ.

One such contestant was Knife, who was one of the two season finalists. Upon his arrival, however, Knife found himself in an encounter with Trophy, who berated him over ‘going soft.’

After the confrontation, Knife went to speak to Suitcase, but found that she was no longer in the main party room. He searched around the hotel, but wasn’t having any luck in locating her.

Turning down one of the hotel’s hallways, Knife sighed, facing yet another empty space.

“What are you doing down here?”

Knife whirled around to see Trophy standing in the entrance to the hallway.

“Stalking me now, huh?” Knife crossed his arms.

“What, does that make you mad?” Trophy taunted, approaching him.

Knife grumbled. “I’m not doing this again, Trophy.”

“Oh yeah? Then, let’s do something else. You, me, fight. Right here, right now.”

“I’m not fighting you.” Knife stated flatly.

“Why not? Afraid it’ll damage your ‘victim’ persona?” Trophy sneered. “I’m actively inviting you to do it, since that seems to be something you require.”

Knife clenched his fists. He took a deep breath before speaking.

“You know what? Fine.”

Before Trophy could respond, Knife lunged in his direction. Trophy dodged to the side, taking a swing at the sharp object. Knife avoided the blow, sweeping Trophy’s legs with one of his own. Trophy fell to the ground, with Knife quickly planting himself on Trophy’s base, effectively pinning the object on his back.

Trophy grinned. “Heh, I was really starting to doubt you had it in you.”

“There’s a lot you don’t understand, Trophy.” Knife looked away, returning his gaze a moment later with a smirk. “I do have one question for you, though.”

“Yeah? And what’s that?”

“Would you happen to be ticklish?”

“Would I- … huh?” Trophy repeated, clearly caught off guard by the question.

A smug looking Knife raised his hands and wiggled his fingers down at the object.

Trophy’s eyes widened before he shot out his hands, latching onto Knife’s wrists.

“Don’t. You. Dare.”

Knife chuckled. “Guess I got my answer, huh?”

Knife moved his hands closer to Trophy, who firmly pushed against them.

“What? I thought this was what you wanted.” Knife said, grinning.

“This is very clearly not what I wanted.”

“Eh… fist fight, tickle fight, I don’t see much of a difference.”

“There is a large difference!”

“If you say so.”

Knife then suddenly yanked his hands back, tearing them out of Trophy’s grasp, before quickly shoving them under the object’s arms. He began to skitter his fingers against the surface.

“Nohoho! Stohohop yohou ihidiot!” Trophy giggled out, bringing his hands down to grab at Knife’s wrists once more.

“Mmmm,” Knife hummed, pretending to think, “no.”

“Ihi’m gohonna kihill yohou!” Trophy pulled at Knife’s hands, but they wouldn’t budge.

“Really now? Last I checked, I’m not the one pinned to the ground.”

Before Trophy could think of a comeback, he felt Knife’s fingers slip down to the narrowest point of his middle section. He froze at the contact. Knife then began to skitter his fingers over the area.

Trophy started thrashing around as his giggles turned into full-fledged laughter.

“NAHAHA! STOHOHOP THAHAT!”

Knife snickered. “Bad spot?”

Trophy attempted to pry Knife’s hands off once more, but still could not remove them. “GEHET OHOUT OHOF THEHERE!”

“How about you take this as some form of endurance training or something? Just think of all the muscles you’re using right now.”

“IHI’LL ENDUHURANCE TRAHAINING YOHOU!”

Mustering up his remaining strength, Trophy let go of Knife’s hands and roughly shoved him in the chest.

Knife, caught by surprise, fell backwards and off of Trophy. Sitting up, Trophy wasted no time, immediately tackling Knife.

The two tussled around on the ground for a few moments until Trophy was once again on his back, with Knife now positioned behind his head, holding both of his wrists.

“Oh you have got to be kidding me.” Trophy grumbled.

“I am not.” Knife replied, pinning each of Trophy’s hands under his knees.

“This is lame, man.”

“Well that’s too bad.”

Tentatively, Knife reached out and traced a single finger down the inner side of one of Trophy’s handles.

Trophy flinched before breaking out into giggles. “Hehehey! Quihit thahat!”

Knife ignored the request, his other hand joining in as he began to gently flutter his fingers against the inner surfaces of the two golden handles.

Trophy shut his eyes, his legs starting to lightly beat against the ground.

“Ihi’m gohonna… Ihi’m gohonna…”

“You’re going to…?” Knife prompted, but no response came from Trophy, who seemed to be lost in his own giggles.

Knife took note of the large decrease in resistance from Trophy, compared to the fight he had been putting up earlier. He now only barely pulled at his hands, which remained trapped under Knife’s weight.

Knife continued for a few minutes before a voice appeared behind him.

“Hey, uh… what are you guys doing?”

Knife turned around and spotted Baseball standing in the doorway, watching them.

He halted his hands, pulling away from Trophy.

“Oh, nothing.”

As soon as Knife was off of Trophy’s hands, Trophy stood up, gave him a shove, and stomped past Baseball out of the hallway.

“What was that about?” Baseball questioned as Knife approached.

“Don’t worry about it.” Knife brushed him off. “Any chance you’ve seen Suitcase?”

“Oh, yes, over here.” Baseball led Knife back to the main party room.

Knife wasn’t sure whether his encounter with Trophy would get him to lay off, or only serve to agitate him further. Either way, he had learned a new tactic for dealing with Trophy’s attempts to egg him on. One which he was eager for the opportunity to utilize again.