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As you can guess, breakfast was very…awkward, to say the list. Pancakes were eaten in tense silence, the only sound being heard my rapid heart beat and Gracie licking her unmentionables. Every now and then, I’d steal a quick glance at Onceler, as if making sure his eyes hadn't changed while I wasn't looking.

It doesn't make any sense, I thought, grabbing the truffula syrup and pouring the murky liquid over my flapjacks. How could that sweet, innocent Onceler I’d come to know suddenly turn into…that? When he came to my farm, he was in tears...but which one of him was crying? The logical choice would be the shy, blue-eyed Onceler, seeing as that one seemed more in tune with his emotions (Maybe a little too in tune, if you catch my drift). And yet, I think the bolder, green-eyed version of him could have also been crying that night. But why...?
My thoughts were interrupted by Onceler clearing his throat. "___-_____?"
"Yes," I answered eagerly, thinking he'd shed some light on what the flip just happened.
"Y-You're still squeezing the bottle."
Sure enough, I looked down to see the bottle still held firm in my grasp, a large pool of truffula sap forming a moat in the middle of my meal. I shrugged, licking some off of my fingers as I screwed on the cap. It'd take a lot to phase me after my little 'wake up call'. "Want some?" I asked him nonchalantly, offering the condiment to him. His cheeks turning slightly pink as he shook his head, looking away from me.
Yeah, this was going nowhere fast. What if...he doesn't remember transforming? That was definitely something to take under consideration. It could be like MPD, where there could be even more little 'Oncelers' inside of him, just waiting to come out, and he won't even be able to remember what happened. In that case, what was the name of the one I'd seen this morning? It couldn't have been Onceler, he was the picture of innocence...sort of. So, what should I call this green Oncie?
Before I could think too hard on it, there was a knock at the door. Excusing myself from the table with a sigh, I went to the rickety excuse of a door, swinging it open and glancing outside. No one was there.
Freaking ding dong ditchers... I tried to close the door and continue my search for answers, but a floppy, orange foot stuck itself in the doorway with a grunt. Who did this grotty foot belong to, you ask? Well...I seriously don't know. I mean, I've been living separate from society for years, so I really don't know if that's a new species, or...yuck.
A short, orange...thing stood before me, spindly arms crossed over his barrel chest. And from the way his mustard-yellow mustache twitched every once in awhile when he glanced at me, I don't think he was that happy.
After staring at him for a few very freaked out seconds, the creature scoffed, glaring off to the side. "Well, are just gonna stand there and ogle me or are you going to let me in?"
"Ogle!?" you sputtered. "You wish, creep!" The little blob of fur blew me off, walking past me and into the house. Rude.
He didn't really say anything as he walked around, he just kinda emoted at everything. And when I say everything, I mean everything. The color of my curtains, my potted plants. Heck, he even went up to one of the few pieces of artwork I had bought and went 'Meh'. That 'meh' was five hundred dollars, y'know!
Getting annoyed with the wierdo's critiques, I blocked the way to the kitchen, the one place he'd left un-judged. Hands on my hips, I glowered down at him, thoroughly pissed. "Excuse me, but just who do you think you are, waltzing into my house uninvited without any kind of explanation?"
He sighed, as if this whole thing was an inconvenience, then took a bow, a small smile pulling at his...hair? "I am the Lorax. I speak for the trees."
I crossed my arms over my chest, a little confused. "You speak...for trees? You've got to be kidding me! I mean, why would anyone do that? Do trees, like," I wiggled my fingers in front of him, "communicate with you? Are you some kinda tree guru from the mountains?"
"No, you idiot! When I say I speak for the trees, I mean I talk in their stead, hoping to keep them from being killed. Though looking at what's happened in the past few years, I guess I haven't been doing that great a job of it." He wore a frown that made even me feel a little empathetic for the guy.
Reluctantly, I invited the Lorax to sit with me, to which he immediately complied, throwing some of my yarn on the ground in the process. As he made himself comfortable, I couldn't help but notice the uncomfortable glances he made at some of the thneeds I'd whipped up.
"Hey, eh," he picked one up, holding it at arms' length from himself, "what exactly are you doing with these?"
"I've gotten a pretty darn interesting housemate recently. I found'em moping around my farm, one thing led to another, and he's kinda my new business partner, and that's one of our products." I sated truthfully, smiling slightly at the mere thought of the Onceler. It was completely obliterated when the Lorax threw the thneed to the ground, outraged.
"Hey! You messed up my-"
"Where is he?"
I blinked at his sudden interruption, a little bit taken aback. Why did that tick him off? What's going on in here?
I turned to see a door cracking open, the tall, slim figure of the Onceler stepping out, his strides certain but his eyes unsure of where to concentrate. The blue, passive orbs flickered from me to that orange blob, then back again. "What should I do?" ,they seemed to ask me. I responded with a shrug.
He gave me a nod-was it in understanding or an apology?-before looking back at the Lorax, eyes a lot less kind than they had been earlier. "What do you want, Mustache? I don't remember a prophecy about you coming back so early. Let me guess, the trees told you to?" He scoffed. Never had I heard his voice so cold.
The Lorax tensed at his comment, coming closer to the man with clenched fists. "Actually, yes, they did. I was on my way up into the clouds, and the trees just cried out to me, saying "The stupid Beanpole is at again! The stupid Beanpole is at it again!"
If I'm not mistaken, I think I heard a low growl come from the Onceler, his eyes flashing too dangerously to even be a color. With a nervous chuckle, I stepped in between them, trying to play Peacemaker. Not really because I didn't like seeing people fight (That's a freaking hilarious past time of mine), more because I didn't want to clean up the bloodstains afterwards.
"Oi, let's stop this now! I'm really confused as to what's happening right now, so let's all just sit down and talk this all out like the civilized adults we are. M'kay?"
Their eyes were still fixed on each other's, unwavering and full of anger. After a few more seconds of staring each other into dust, they took a seat.
Alright, I thought. Time to see what the heck has happened to my life.