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The sun shone down brightly on a particularly warm afternoon. The asphalt was surprisingly hot and the flowers were in full bloom. It was the most picturesque spring day one could possibly imagine.
Most of the time, Tommy and his friends would hang around after school, or on days like these, they’d detour to an adjacent playground and bullshit there instead. This would last for a little while until eventually Wilbur would come along to pick them up. Sometimes Techno would be the one to get them instead which was far and few between and was always considerably more awkward.
Unfortunately neither of them were going to be there on time. This usually wouldn’t be a problem for Tommy who lived nearby but Tubbo and Ranboo were reliant on his older brothers to go basically anywhere.
“Why can’t they come again?” asked Tubbo.
“Dress rehearsal for Heathers is today,” Tommy groaned, “It’s so embarrassing being associated with them,”
“Wait... I didn’t know Technoblade was in theater!” Tubbo exclaimed.
“Neither did I, I think he like does something with the lights sometimes?”
“He’s an honorary techie,” Ranboo said almost immediately.
Tommy turned to gape at him, “Why the fuck do you know that word means?”
“Have you met Ranboo?” Snorted Tubbo, “He’s a huge musical theater guy.”
“I do happen to be an expert,” Ranboo smiled, “You two should come over and watch a Starkid show, those are the best!”
“I’ll pass,” said Tommy.
“I’m in!” grinned Tubbo.
Eventually the trio arrived at one of the aforementioned playgrounds around town. It was one of those god awful ones with the wood chips that dig into your feet and the swings that always feel like they’re one gust of wind away from collapsing.
The heat made the plastic jungle gym hot to the touch and the water fountains were so janky they didn’t even work. Not like any of them would take their chances drinking from it to begin with, but still.
“I hate it here,” said a rather deflated Ranboo.
“It’s not my fault they can’t pick us up!” Tommy protested, “It’s not like I asked for them to abandon us!”
“I’m not sure if I would call this abandonment,” murmured Tubbo who decided to take a seat on one of the swings, “It shouldn’t be more than half an hour till one of them gets here..”
Tommy groaned in annoyance, “Tubbo! You are not helping my case!”
“I mean this isn’t great but it could be worse I guess?” Ranboo shrugged, “It could be raining.”
“Who cares about the weather? I’m a busy man!”
Tubbo raised an eyebrow, “With what exactly?”
“The women! They need me!” Tommy said in an unexpectedly passionate tone.
A beat of silence.
Then they lost it.
“Tommy are the hot singles in your area in trouble?!” Ranboo laughed, “Not the milfs!”
Tommy wheezed, “Shut up!”
“This is ridiculous!” Said Tubbo through bursts of laughter.
“It’s terrible and I love it! Tommyinnit. Master of Women!” Ranboo gestured emphatically with his hands.
“Do you collect them like Pokémon? Just shove them in your masterballs - wait no that’s - that is NOT what I-“
“CHRIST TUBBO!” Tommy shrieked, “Why'd you have to go there!”
It wasn’t much longer before they became increasingly more bored. Eventually Ranboo had dug through his backpack and found a Rubix cube he’d thrown in there ages ago. He was sitting up on top of the monkey bars with Tubbo, showing him exactly how to speedcube. Tommy absolutely hated it.
It’s not like Tommy actually hated Ranboo it’s just that he always felt like he was competing for Tubbo’s attention. He wasn’t really, and if he truly wanted the other boy to leave he would’ve told him to. You see, Tommy did not care about Rubik's cubes or Starkid musicals. It was boring to him.
And well, a bored Tommy makes for some horrible decisions.
“Hey guys,” Tommy cleared his throat, “Watch this.”
“Oh my god what are you doing?”
Tommy beckoned the pair away from the monkey bars. Tubbo jumped down while Ranboo merely slid off. He’d always been obnoxiously tall for no good reason.
Tommy took them back to the swing set, he glanced over at the baby swing: perfect. He had an awful idea.
He had no idea what his actual goal is. Why the baby swing? What was he trying to prove exactly? Was it just for a bit? He had absolutely no idea.
Tubbo gave him a look, “Tommy you can’t be serious.”
“Dead serious.”
Ranboo dies, “He says as he gets into the baby swing!”
“You! Shut it!” Tommy points a finger at him before attempting to get inside.
He didn’t actually plan on sitting in it. He originally wanted to stand in it, for no apparent reason than it'd be funny to watch this 6 foot child just standing there in the baby swing.
But Tommy was curious and it was extremely tempting. He tried to slip his feet through the foot holes but his shoes wouldn’t fit. Tommy groaned and resorted to kicking them off before sliding his legs through.
And there he was.
Sitting in the fucking baby swing.
It was terrible. The plastic was far too tight against his jeans and his legs weren’t able to fully extend. He was locked in some horrendous squat position.
“That cannot be comfortable.” Ranboo shared a sidelong glance with Tubbo, “Why did you do that?”
Tommy tried to think of a substantial excuse, “For the women?”
“I’m no professional but I don’t think this is what women want.”
“That’s because you’re not an expert Tubbo!” Tommy attempted to stand up normally, but the swing went up with him. It was attached to him now.
This was a terrible joke, he wanted it to be over with. Unfortunately, the fun had only just begun.
Tommy tried to get out of the swing, “Well shit,”
“What - what is it!?”
“I think i’m stuck.”
“What do you mean you think you’re stuck?!”
Tommy looked down at the baby swing he was confined to, “Look at me!!”
“Should we call someone?” asked Ranboo whose hand hovered over his pocket, no doubt tempted to record this all.
“Tommy just get up out of the swing!”
Tommy tried to pull himself out, to no avail. The chains jingled comically as he swung back and forth. His new prison. Fucking wonderful.
“I’m trying!” He yelled back.
“What if you grab the top of the swingset and pull yourself out?” Ranboo suggested.
For all his faults, that’s a pretty good idea... Tommy thought to himself.
He reached upwards and grabbed the bar, it made an awful creaking sound. But Tommy was too tall, there was too much slack in the chains so he couldn’t pry himself from the swing. Plus, what if the entire swing set fell over?
“What are we supposed to do?” A panicked Tubbo asked Ranboo, “We have to do something right?”
“I hate to say it, but we should probably call someone.”
That was a horrible idea. The thought alone was mortifying to think about.
“We can figure something out!” Tommy said hastily, “Why don’t you two try and help me?”
The two boys then spent a good while attempting (and failing) to pry Tommy from the swing. They tried to pull at the waist or to pull from below but the baby swing simply would not budge.
“Tommy give me your phone, I’m calling someone,” Tubbo demanded, “We can’t do this alone.”
“Nononono you absolutely will not do that!” Tommy backed as far away as the swing would allow him.
“We’ve tried everything!” Tubbo lunged forward for Tommy’s phone.
Tommy swung forward, causing Tubbo to miss entirely. When he swung back again he nearly knocked his friend over.
Tubbo tried again, “What are you eight?”
This time he’d managed to grab onto his shirt but Tommy kicked off harder and soared upwards. The swingset groaned louder.
“You’ll never catch me alive!” Tommy laughed.
“Thanks for the phone,” He heard Ranboo say and it was only then that Tommy realized he accidentally dropped it while he was airborne.
“Whatever you do don’t call Wilbur!” He pleaded.
But Ranboo was already walking away, out of earshot. He scrolled through Tommy’s contact list and pressed call. Someone would be here soon.
After a couple minutes Ranboo turned it off, “Tommy! Catch!”
He scrambled forward to catch his phone, only barely catching it, “Hey thanks for that!” he said bitterly.
“It had to be done,” Tubbo said, “Unless you plan on spending all night trapped there?”
Tommy didn’t like the sound of that at all.
He spent the next fifteen minutes thrashing about in the baby swing. Maybe it would be better if the whole thing came down on top. Ranboo and Tubbo watched him with both a look of pity and as if they were holding back a laugh.
Then they heard it. The crunch of gravel and the sound of an engine. Someone had finally come.
A window rolled down, and there was Wilbur.
“Hello Tommy!” A familiar face poked out from behind his brother, Charlie naturally, “You look comfortable!”
“Charlie, Wilbur, this is not what it looks like!”
“It is absolutely what it looks like,” Tubbo said teasingly.
For the first time in forever, Tommy wished Techno was the one to show up. He would’ve just laughed and then called Dad but Wilbur would humiliate him, and probably record it too.
Wilbur and Charlie got out of the car as slow as they could possibly manage, just to really get inside Tommy’s head. Neither of them seemed to be taking this seriously.
Finally the older boys joined them at the swingset, Wilbur smirked and rattled the chains for a moment.
“Stop that!” Tommy said.
“Wait so you really are stuck?” Charlie asked
Tommy nodded.
“Oh my god I totally thought Ranboo was just kidding and he was just reminding us to come and get you guys!” Wilbur laughed.
Tubbo frowned, “Wait so you actually forgot about us?”
“Dress rehearsal was a hot mess today, ask him about it later,” Charlie elbowed Wilbur in the side.
Wilbur grimaced, “Right so what actually happened here?”
“Well as you can see, nothing good,” Ranboo deadpanned.
“Fucking obviously nothing good!” Tommy swung back and forth.
Wilbur squinted slightly, surveying the scene before him, “Can you like, wiggle out?”
“Do you honestly think I haven’t tried that!”
“Well I mean...” Charlie started but was immediately cut off.
“Charlie!” Tommy yelled.
Wilbur cleared his throat, “Alright looks like this is a job for Wilbur and Charlie!”
“Please don’t say it so loud,” Tommy hid his face in his hands, this was so much worse than what he could’ve imagined.
“Wait before we do anything,” Wilbur dug around in his coat pocket, “I have to get a video!”
“Make sure you send it to me when you’re done!” Tubbo grinned.
“Oh for sure!” Wilbur replied.
He held the camera up to Tommy’s face, “Tommy is there anything you’d like to say?”
“Fuck off,” Tommy spat, his face felt hot with embarrassment, “Youre enjoying this far too much,”
“Don't say that Tommy, this is hilarious!”
“Yeah for you maybe but this is torture,” He kicked up some of the wood chips and refused to look at the camera.
“Alright alright,” Wilbur sighed, “Tubbo hold my phone for me, we should definitely still get this on video!”
“Gotcha!”
The two high schoolers then moved to stand on either side of Tommy and grabbed under his arms.
“Okay Charlie on three!”
“Wilbur you know I can’t count to three! It’s my mortal weakness!”
Wilbur snorted, “Shit you’re right - okay just on the word three then!!”
“Three!” They said in unison and pulled as hard as they could. Nothing happened.
“Hey Ranboo could you lend a hand?” Wilbur asked, “You’ve got the height for it!”
“Yeah sure,” He half jogged back over to the swing set.
“On three again?” Charlie asked.
Ranboo shook his head “Maybe we should countdown this time,”
“You strike a hard bargain!” Charlie jabbed at him, “But it’ll work,”
“One…”
“Two…”
“Three!”
They pulled even harder, still to no avail. Why was everyone here built like a twig?
“Who knew these things were so durable!” Charlie knocked on the side of the plastic.
“I think it’s more like, who knew my brother is a massive idiot,” Wilbur groaned, “Phil is going to kill me if we can’t get him out of here!”
“Is that all you’re worried about?” Tommy shook the seat once more.
Ranboo set his hand on Tommy’s shoulder, “I’m sure they’ll find some way to get you out of there,”
“No, they’re going to call dad I can feel it.”
~
That’s exactly what ended up happening.
Philza was seated in his office, enjoying a late afternoon cup of tea. Techno was thumbing through some staff paperwork, keeping busy.
“Why didn’t you just go home?” Philza asked, “It's not everyday you stay late to help me out,”
“Wilbur invited Charlie over for the weekend, and personally I’d rather not deal with them any longer than I already have to,”
Philza took a long sip from his cup, “Fair enough then.”
Just as he was about to return to his work his cell rang, it was Wilbur. He shot Techno a quizzical glance and accepted the call. He set it to speaker out of sheer curiosity.
“Yes Wilbur?”
“Phil, Tommy is trapped in a baby swing and we can’t get him out!”.
Philza gaped down at the phone, “What do you mean Tommy’s trapped in a baby swing?”
“Check your texts!” Charlie’s voice came through this time, “It’s pretty funny!”
He stayed on the line and opened his texts to see a disheveled Tommy slumped over in a baby swing. Ranboo and Tubbo stood behind him, making funny faces.
“Let me see,” Techno said.
He turned his phone to show him the picture. Techno snorted.
“Well I’m at work, what do you want me to do about it?” He asked.
“Can you call the fire station?” Wilbur mumbled, “I would myself but…”
Philza rolled his eyes, “Christ - okay fine. Sit tight!”
From the other side of the line he could here the boys chanting, “PHILZA! PHILZA! PHILZA!”
-
After two hours of being trapped in the swing, Tommy was finally released from it. The fire department had to use the jaws of life to cut the swing off of him. It was a mess.
The others couldn’t stop laughing, especially when one of the officers asked, “What on earth compelled you to do this son?”
Wilbur tried to persuade Tommy to barter to keep the swing but Tommy was having none of it. He grumbled and grimaced the entire time, and somehow the perfect blend of bright red from embarrassment and paper white from mortification.
A few days later, Wilbur would convince Phil to hang a photo of the event in their house. Tommy would nearly vomit every time he’d see it in their hallway, a bitter reminder of a godawful afternoon.
As he finally was able to stand up, Tommy said one sentence and one sentence only.
“I fucking hate baby swings.”