Inktober 2026 - 5 - Smack

A big group of teenagers is gathered around two of their peers, standing in the middle, facing off like two big cats introduced in the same cage. On one side of the circle, a boy with blond curls, pale blue eyes, and feathered wings behind his back. He is dressed all in white with touches of gold, modern but still quite preppy. On the other side, a boy with little horns pointing out of his auburn hair, ruby red eyes, and a forked tail whipping the air behind him. His clothes are mostly black, with streaks of red here and there, in a much grungier style. The crowd cheers them on as they insult each other:

“I will pluck all of your feathers one by one, you freak!” spits the demon boy.

“I’d like to see you try! You’d have to catch me first, you wingless bastard!” replies his opponent, raising an eyebrow in disdain.

“Oh, it can’t be that hard. From what I hear, you’re not exactly the fastest chicken in the coop. Bawk bawk!”

The horned teen starts flapping his elbows, mimicking poultry. The impersonation makes part of the audience erupt in laughter, while the rest of them boo, for the most part those with bird-like attributes and/or appendages.

“You should check where you get your information. But then again, you’re part sheep, so being gullible is kind of your thing, isn’t it?”

Sharp breaths of shock can be heard from a few of the onlookers at this taunt, mostly girls.

“Are you serious? You can’t even tell the difference between a sheep and a goat? Looks like I’m not the one that needs to check their sources…”

The angel rolls his eyes as his demonic adversary pretends to wipe some dust off his shoulder.

“Well, I guess you don’t know how much all farm animals look the same from high in the clouds, do you?”

“Nah, I’d rather stay on the ground and get my hands dirty, you prissy princess!”

Absorbed in each other, still trying to stare the other down, the boys don’t notice an adult making his way across the crowd around them. The tall bearded man with butterfly wings soon reaches them, and hits each of them in the back of the head with the palm of his hand.

“Ouch!” they both exclaim at the same time, reaching for the place they’ve been struck.

“What was that for?” asks the angel, evidently not used to punishment.

“For talking shit,” answers their teacher sternly and without hesitation.

The whole crowd gasps at his use of bad language, but he pays them no mind:

“It’s not like either of you is ever going to act on those threats I heard anyway, so why don’t you use your words in a more constructive manner?”

“He started it!” accuses the devil boy.

“Of course you’d say that, you underground-dwelling little b…”

“Enough!” their teacher interrupts him. 

“He kissed my girl.”

“That’s what you’re mad about? It was on the cheek! And she’s my cousin, you idiot!”