Fanon:PLET

Because of how popular PLET was, I thought I would try and write it into a full novel. Obviously, I am an inexperienced writer, so the story wouldn't be A-grade. I will update this as I write each chapter—enjoy.

1
Peyton stared at the clock as it ticked by the second. The detention room was scorching, despite the air conditioner noisily blasting. It was the last day of school at Golden Peak Middle School. Peyton was given detention for flicking off his science teacher, Mr. Pranava. He happened to be the only person in the room with Peyton.

They were exchanging dirty looks when the detention bell loudly rang. Without saying a word, Peyton snatched his backpack and left the room. He raced across the halls and kicked the door open, only to be met by the blistering sun. However, the sun was the very least of Peyton’s problems. Because of his untimely detention, Peyton was late for the first treehouse meeting of the summer. He hopped on his bicycle and pedaled across the street and into the woods.

Sweat dripped as Peyton furiously pedaled his bike through the forest. He stopped when he spotted the giant tree with a ladder hanging down from its biggest branch. Peyton fell as he got off his bike, and as he tried to get up someone pushed him from behind; it was Henry.

“Where have you been?” he chuckled. Peyton got up and pushed him back.

“I had to go to my grandma’s house to get some stuff,” Peyton lied. They scurried across the dirt path and climbed up the ladder in the treehouse.

“Hey, Peyton,” welcomed Carter. Peyton smiled at him. The treehouse was the headquarters of Peyton’s comic creating club. Peyton and his friends often bragged about the treehouse to their other friends, it was almost like a miniature apartment. There were two tables, four beanbag chairs, a pantry full of snacks, and a cabinet for art supplies. The windows were even made of glass and could open and close. There wasn’t a square inch on the wooden wall that wasn’t covered in drawings and stories.

“Good Oak Comics!” said Jacob happily. “That’s us!”

“Yep!” Peyton responded. In past years, the comics club would sell all their comics at the park. Everyone loved their comics, people would often praise Peyton and his friends for their amazing work. But this year was different. This year, they would open an online store and sell all of their comics there.

“I can’t wait to make some money of my own,” said Suyash. “I’ve been wanting a new phone for so long!”

“Nice! I just finished the website last week!” exclaimed Peyton. He had spent his free time for the past several months coding the website.

Henry and Carter laid some drawings on the table.

“These are some characters we came up with before you arrived,” said Carter as he pushed a drawing toward Peyton. “This guy’s called Joe Moraliste.”

“He’s an ancient warrior who travels through the universe,” Henry added. Peyton nodded as he sat down and got to work. He had a few of his own comic ideas in his mind that he came up with during detention. Suyash looked over and started adding some of his characters to his story. The treehouse swiftly went quiet as everyone started drawing and writing.

A thunderstorm hit just as Henry and Carter finished the cover for Joe Moraliste. Everyone glanced outside; it wasn’t dark, but the rain looked black and inky regardless. The rain noisily tapped the windows, but Suyash went back to work, and Henry did the same. Jacob stared nervously out the window, and Peyton just lay on a beanbag chair munching on potato chips.

“Don’t go,” he said, looking at Jacob. “It’s probably safer in here.” Jacob nodded and lay on the beanbag chair next to Peyton’s.

“Chip?”

“No thanks,” Jacob’s voice was shaky. He trembled loudly on the beanbag chair. Henry looked over and smirked before going back to draw aliens.

Another hour passed, and the storm appeared far from stopping. The sun had set, and the forest was pitch black outside, other than the occasional distant lightning strikes. No one was brave enough to leave. They had all gotten bored and were just playing cards on the rug. Finally, Suyash put on his coat and grabbed his stuff.

“This storm’s probably going to last all night, I should probably go.” He slowly climbed down the ladder and ran into the dense forest. Henry and Carter left shortly after, and only Peyton and Jacob were left in the treehouse.

Peyton was staring at a photo on the back wall. It was his older brother, Travis, who was killed in a fatal car accident last year. Jacob went to comfort him.

“You know,” said Peyton, choking up tears. “Travis was the one that built this treehouse with me; he started this comic club.” Jacob had heard this story countless times, but he didn’t say anything. He put his arm on Peyton’s shoulder.

“Let’s go home,” he suggested quietly. Peyton hesitated, before looking at him and nodding. They both grabbed their stuff and left the treehouse together into the dark woods.

2
The scent of wet wood lingered the next morning in the treehouse. Peyton and Suyash had come in early to deliver supplies. They went to four different stores to buy paper, markers, pens, pencils, and snacks.

“I can’t believe that the grocery store was out of cheese puffs already!” scoffed Suyash. Peyton ignored him as he neatly arranged the snacks alphabetically in the wooden cabinet. “Peyton, how much money did we spend?”

“Sixty dollars,” said Peyton as he shuffled through the receipts. “It shouldn’t be too hard to earn back.” He placed the folders into a folder and put it into the drawer. Peyton was the most organized person in the comic club; he was the reason the treehouse wasn’t a cluttered mess.

“Hey, I left my laptop at home; I’m running back to grab it.” Without waiting for Suyash’s response, Peyton climbed the ladder and ran into the dense woods. Suyash finished organizing the treehouse on his own. He vacuumed the rug, cleaned the tables and chairs, and organized old comics.

“Hi, Suyash!” shouted Carter; Suyash jumped a little. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Carter chuckled. “Wow, everything’s looking really nice.”

“Thanks.”

“Where are the others?”

“They haven’t arrived yet.” Carter nodded and began brainstorming more ideas on a sheet of lined paper. Jacob arrived at the treehouse moments later; he also complemented Suyash on how nice the treehouse looked.

“Who is that?” asked Jacob looking out the window. Suyash and Carter peeked through the door. It was Henry, but he was with another kid whom nobody could recognize.

“Hey, everyone!” greeted Henry. “This is Pat! He moved into my neighborhood yesterday, and he says that he likes to draw!” Pat was a short kid who looked around the same age as the others. He had blond, curly hair and glasses.

“Hi.” Pat shyly waved at everyone in the treehouse. Suyash and Carter looked at each other, not knowing what to say.

“Welcome,” greeted Carter. “I’m Carter, and I’m one of the main artists here. Nice to meet you, Pat.” Suyash and Jacob also greeted Pat and let him into the treehouse.

“Let me give you the grand tour,” joked Henry. “Over there is the snack cabinet, here is the drawing table, and over there are our cabinets for filing old or discarded comics.” Pat looked around; everyone could tell that he was impressed.

“Hey, everybody, I’m back,” said Peyton as he climbed into the treehouse. “Who’s this?”

“Peyton, this Pat. Pat, this is Peyton.” They shook hands.

“Well, hello Pat. I’m Peyton, and I’m the one in charge here. Every summer, we gather here as much as possible to put all of our artistic ideas on paper. If they’re good, we can sell them. In past years, we’ve sold them at the park, and—”

“I know, Henry told me everything,” said Pat. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to cut you off.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s good that Henry told you everything about us. So, guys, I’m almost done with the website. I just need to fix some bugs and formatting stuff.”

“Great! I can’t wait to make some good money!”

“Me too, Henry. Let’s first worry about drawing the comics. You guys should get started; every day matters, and summer vacation is too short to slack off.” Everyone got to work except Pat. He just watched Henry and Carter work on Joe Moraliste. Eventually, he started working on his own comics.

“What’s it supposed to be about?” asked Jacob curiously as he looked over at Pat.

“It’s a parody of the American Civil War. I’m really into history and social studies.”

“I hate social studies,” commented Henry.

“That’s cool; we mainly write science fiction and action comics here, but history is fine.”

“History comics are for nerds; the cartoonists of Good Oak Comics are not nerds.”

“You seem like a nerd with all of your website shenanigans.” Peyton stood up fiercely.

“Just because I can code doesn’t mean that I am a nerd. Coding is actually useful in life, unlike history.”

“I feel like you’re too dumb to learn history, and therefore you dislike it.”

“Pat, Peyton, call down,” said Carter calmly. Peyton and Pat both ignored him.

“At least I don’t look like a tiny, pathetic, 8-year-old nerd who got potty-trained last week,” Peyton roared loudly. He slammed the table and kicked a small stool over.

“Peyton, that’s enough!” shouted Suyash. There was a long, awkward silence. Everyone sat down and stared blankly at the wooden table.

“I’m sorry,” mumbled Peyton. Pat nodded, accepting his apology. “I’m going to head home and work on the website.” He took his laptop and slowly climbed down the treehouse ladder. Silence filled the room once again.

“So… how much money did you make last year?” asked Pat, trying to break the ice.

“That’s none of your business,” mumbled Henry.

“Around 2000 dollars,” answered Jacob. Henry shot Jacob an angry look, which Jacob ignored.

“Cool,” said Pat with a soft smile. “I’m going to head home, bye guys.” Pat left the ladder and trotted into the woods. Henry and Jacob spent the rest of the night glaring at each other after Suyash and Carter left.