Alex yanked his t-shirt free from the tangle of laundry piled on the old couch, grumbling as a stray sock bounced off his head. Morning sunlight snuck through the tiny basement window, catching on his white-furred hands as he scanned the cluttered room. The distant thud of Gumball and Darwin’s feet overhead meant chaos was already brewing upstairs. Alex stooped to fish his phone charger from beneath an ancient board game box, nearly stepping on a singing wind-up toy that activated with a cacophonous jingle.
“Seriously?”
he muttered, giving it a gentle kick. At that moment, the basement door creaked open and Gumball’s head poked through.
“Alex! Emergency! The toaster’s staging a revolt and Mom says you’re the only one who can talk it down!”
Alex blinked, sock in hand, pulse picking up at the prospect of a very Elmore morning. He grabbed his hoodie and headed for the stairs, leaving the singing toy chirping behind.