When Sir Whipsonfreak came out from the bathroom, he saw Richter sitting with his right hand on his cheeks, trying to revolve the wooden cubed cutlery holder, with all the spoons and forks that had been held by it lying grandly on the floor. A yawn escaped his mouth as he failed once again.

"Let me make you something." He said to his grandson as he moved into the kitchen.

"Can you make me happy?" Richter asked, "Cause I am a hella bored and sad."

"Why don't you touch your mobile with your nose tip? Stare blankly at that light emanating screen of sadness and forget the whole world? " He suggested.

"You can do only so much with phones !" Richter protested before silently mumbling, "And anyway its getting charged right now."

"Then eat your dinner. I am cooking your favorite."

"It is always my favorite- Roasted Chicken and vegetables!" Richter sighed.

"So? It is one of the healthiest, safest meal for dinner."

"Don't you get bored, playing all this safety stuff over and over since almost a decade!"

"No I don't, because I like to be bored lying in my bed with complete health than being excited while lying in a mountain with a broken leg and a wheezing breath!"

Richter gave another groan and stopped talking, knowing that winning an argument with his grandad won't be easy, especially with an argument like bored but healthy lifestyle.

After dinner, while Richter once again resumed his phone, Sir Whipsonfreak brushed his teeth and then slipped into the bed, turning on the centenarian gramophone. As the ancient soothing tune filled the house, he went into a deep slumber, his chest moving up and down as he slept soundly.

At midnight, Richter too decided to finally go to bed, leaving his Google browser history uncleared. The search flashed one last time before the screen got enveloped by darkness- How to make an adamant old man lead a colorful life.

The moon slowly turned over and the sun came out. Sir Whipsonfreak opened his weary eyes and rose from his bed like a Dracula from his coffin. When he came out he saw to his surprise that his night-owl grandson was already awake and was reading the newspaper while sitting on the sofa frame.

"You are awake!" He shouted, startling the poor child and making him fall back on the hardwood floor.

As the stars surrounded Richter and performed Zumba, Tango, and Kathak, his eyes focussed on the hazy figure of his grandpa.

"You are awake!" Sir Whipson shouted once again, making him sit up with a jerk. He shook his head and looked at his granddad, making a face.

"You are awake!" He shouted for the third time.

"Yes!" Richter yelled, "I can wake up early sometimes!"

"Okay." Said Sir Whipsonfreak and went to the kitchen, putting two slices of bread in his fifty-year-old toaster.

"Did you read this news?" He called behind him.

"What news?" Asked Sir Whipson, wondering what Richter was talking about.

"This", Richter declared, running towards his grandfather and proudly showing him the title-
Leading a monotonous life can be unhealthy and dangerous.

Sir Whipson adjusted his spectacle that hung around his neck and peered at the headline

" Bah", he finally said, his impression so precise that even a sheep would nod in the appraisal.

As he moved back to the kitchen, Richter jumped up and shouted, "But it's true! Proved by science! The life you lead because it's safe is in fact killing you."

"Well so is your shockingly low IQ." Sir Whipson replied, as he brought out the toasts and spread butter on them.

He then made his way to the dining table and pulling a chair, sat with a loud thud. Richter too followed suit and sat in front of his grandpa, determined to break him this time.

"What do you want?" Sir Whipson asked in a bored voice.

"Think about it, grandpa, your life has become like your shirt- 80% boring and 25% safe!"

"My life isn't boring." Sir Whipson said, doing very little to support his sentence.

"Oh please, even Lady Melancholy laughs at you."

"She does not!" Sir Whipson cried, defending his honor.

Richter smirked and leaned on the table, looking straight into the scared eyes of his grandpa. He then dropped his voice to a low scandalous one, "Well how do you know that if you haven't been sleeping with her?"

Sir Whipson almost choked on his toast and quickly got up for a drink of water. Richter followed behind him, clearly feeling triumphant on getting his grandad cornered.

"My life isn't boring or melancholic." Sir Whipson quietly said.

"Well then prove it."

"How?"

"By taking three days leave, starting today, and doing stuff you haven't done in years."

Sir Whipson sighed, realizing he had been beleaguered and had no way out of this deal. "Okay", he finally said.

"Deal ?" Richter asked, bringing his hand forward for a shake.

Sir Whipson hesitated but wrapped his hand around his grandson's and shook it. "Deal," he quietly said.

Richter turned around and marched into his room, making sure to not end up doing a victory dance until he was hidden from his grandpa's view.

Seeing his hunter go, the already hunted took a deep sigh, wondering what the day had in store for him.

Poor Sir Whipsonfreak. People sympathizing with him, press the star button ;)

This was such a fun chapter to write. Loved it.
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So what do you think will the day have in store for Sir Whipson? Comment down your thoughts.

You will get your answer in the next chapter.
Till then, stay tuned.

Ps.
Dear Autocorrect,
STOP TURNING MY 'TUNED' TO 'STUNNED' !!!