Decisions (Modern Family)

Jay's Cadillac cruised through the street. Jay, in his classic polo shirt and aviator sunglasses, gripped the steering wheel, eyes focused on the road.

Vincente sat in the passenger seat, legs swinging back and forth, oversized sunglasses perched on his nose, and an inquisitive frown plastered across his face.

With a suspicious tone he asked, "Jay… why are we driving this far to get to the computer store? There's one, like, ten minutes from the house."

Jay, without missing a beat, replied, " Because, kid, the place we're going has… uh… better deals. Yeah, way better deals. You like deals, right?"

Vincente narrowed his, "Since when do you care about deals? You brought the dog butler from Vegas after losing money."

[Flashback]

The front door swings open, and Jay proudly pushes in an absurdly lifelike dog butler statue wearing a tuxedo and holding a silver tray, "Hey, hey, hey! People, look what I brought! It's sophisticated. It's classy. It's…uh…art!"

Gloria froze mid-step at the top of the staircase. Her eyes go wide, and she points an accusing finger at the statue. "El Diablo!"

[Flashback end]

Jay shifted uncomfortably in his seat, gripping the wheel tighter. "That was… different. The dog butler had personality. Plus, technically, it was a business investment."

Vincente with a deadpan voice, "Business investment? It's holding mints on a tray when someone walks in the house?"

Jay sighed, shaking his head. "Alright, fine, Sherlock. You caught me. The truth is… the other store was… uh… closed. Some kind of—mouse infestation."

Vincente raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it, "A mouse infestation? At a tech store? What are they doing, chewing on the USB cables?"

Jay grumbled, "Smart mouth. You know, back in my day, kids didn't interrogate their elders every time they got in a car."

Vincente leaned towards him slightly and whispered loudly, "Back in your day, dinosaurs still roamed the earth."

Jay glanced over at him, amused but trying to hide it. "Alright, listen, kid. Do you want your fancy computer parts or not?"

Vincente leaned back into his seat, "Fine, Fine, I won't ask any more questions."

Jay adjusts his sunglasses with one hand and mutters under his breath, "Kids these days… too smart for their own good."

Jay's Cadillac pulled into a packed parking lot, crawling at a snail's pace. Cars were parked crookedly, SUVs were double-parked, and a rogue shopping cart rolled ominously across the asphalt.

Jay's squinted over his aviators.

Jay muttered, "Look at this chaos. It's like a war zone out here."

Vincente peered over the dashboard, his oversized sunglasses slipping down his nose.

Vincente pointed his finger at some place, "Jay, there's a spot over there!"

Jay craned his neck, spotting the empty space across the lot.

Jay exclaimed, "Good eye, kid! Buckle up—we're going in."

Jay floors it… at a respectful 10 mph. Just as he approaches the spot, a tiny hatchback zips in out of nowhere.

Jay yelled out the window, "Are you kidding me?! That's grand theft parking spot!"

Jay gripped the wheel tighter, his knuckles turning white.

Jay grumbled, "That's it. We're going hunting."

Jay took slow laps around the lot. Every time Jay spotted a space, someone else beat him to it—a minivan reversing too slowly, a biker casually blocking a spot to text, and an elderly woman taking forever to unload her groceries.

After what felt like an eternity…

Vincente, smacked rapidly to get his attention, "There! Right there! That guy's leaving!"

A car starts backing out, and Jay positions the Cadillac perfectly. Just as Jay's about to pull in, a sports car zooms in front of him and steals the spot.

Jay was furious, "Oh, COME ON! What is this, Fast & Furious: Parking Drift?!"

Vincente burst into laughter as Jay groaned, resting his forehead on the steering wheel.

Vincente chuckled, "You know, Jay, for a guy who fought in actual wars, you seem pretty defeated by a parking lot."

Finally, after another painstaking lap, Jay spot a car pulling out slowly. He pulled in smoothly, letting out a long, victorious sigh.

"And they said patience wasn't one of my virtues."

Vincente, clapping slowly let out a whistle. "Bravo, Jay. Bravo."

They both climbed out of the Cadillac and got into the store.

[Pritchett-Tucker House]

Gloria and Manny had gone to the Dunphy residence and Mitchell's yelling could be heard throughout the house.

"No, Cam. I will not let you traumatise a young boy on his birthday."

Cam, standing in full Fizbo costume—oversized shoes, bright rainbow suspenders, and a honking red nose—crossed his arms and pouted. "Mitchell, Fizbo is a beloved character. A legend! Children adore me."

Mitchell pinched the bridge of his nose. "Cam, the last time you showed up as Fizbo at a child's party, you made a three-year-old cry so hard he hyperventilated. And that balloon animal you made? It looked… inappropriate."

"It was supposed to be a giraffe!" Cam protested.

"No giraffe has that many curves, Cam."

Cam sighed dramatically, slumping into a kitchen chair. "But Vincente will love Fizbo."

Mitchell crouched slightly, placing his hands on Cam's shoulders. "Cam, listen to me. Vincente is a cool, stylish, and smart kid. He's not exactly… a clown enthusiast."

Cam gasped, clutching his suspenders. "How dare you? Everyone loves a clown! We bring joy, laughter, whimsy!"

Mitchell raised an eyebrow. "You also bring nightmares, lawsuits, and, let's not forget, a very poorly inflated giraffe."

Cam flopped back dramatically in his chair, his rainbow wig shifting slightly. "But Mitchell, Fizbo is me. If I can't be Fizbo… who am I?"

Mitchell gave him a sympathetic pat. "You're Cameron Tucker, a loving, talented man who doesn't need face paint and honking shoes to make a kid's birthday special. Plus, Phil probably hired a magician and a DJ. Fizbo would just… clash."

Cam perked up slightly. "A DJ, you say? Well… I do have my sequined blazer in the closet…"

Mitchell smiled encouragingly. "There you go! You can be fun, sparkly Uncle Cam instead of… haunting-the-dreams-of-children Uncle Fizbo."

Cam sighed, pulling off his red nose with a honk. "Alright, fine. Fizbo will sit this one out… but if that DJ needs backup dancers, I'm ready."

Mitchell grinned. "That's the spirit. Now go put on that blazer and please—no balloon animals."

Cam stood, already humming a show tune as he sashayed towards the bedroom. Mitchell exhaled deeply, shaking his head. "Honestly… who looks at a balloon and thinks 'giraffe'?"

[Dunphy Residence]

Luke was sneaking around the kitchen island, eyes locked on a tray of perfectly frosted cupcakes. 

His hand hovered just above one—a blue cupcake with extra sprinkles—when suddenly, a firm grip clamped around his wrist.

"AAAHHH!" Luke yelped, nearly knocking over a nearby fruit bowl.

"Hey, hey, buddy! It's me!" Phil's voice broke through the panic as he stepped into view, holding Luke's wrist.

Luke let out a breath, clutching his chest. "Dad! You scared me! I thought—I thought—"

"That you were caught by… the Cupcake Phantom?" Phil wiggled his fingers ominously.

Luke stared blankly. "The… what?"

Phil dropped the act and sighed. "Okay, fine. There's no Cupcake Phantom. But, son, these cupcakes are off-limits. They're for Vincente's birthday party. Do you know what happens if a birthday cupcake goes missing?"

Luke squinted. "The birthday boy gets… one less cupcake?"

"No!" Phil exclaimed. "Well, yes. But also, chaos! Tears! A ripple effect of disappointment that could shake the very foundation of this party!"

Luke's eyes widened. "Whoa."

Phil nodded gravely. "Exactly. Now, as future men of honor and integrity… can I trust you to walk away from these cupcakes with your head held high and your stomach empty?"

Luke hesitated, his eyes flicking back to the cupcakes. "But… they look so good."

Phil sighed, glanced around, then leaned in close. "Alright, listen. I'll split one with you. Just one. But if Claire catches us, we were testing them for… quality control. Deal?"

Luke grinned and nodded eagerly. "Deal!"

Phil carefully broke a cupcake in half, handing one piece to Luke. They both took a bite at the same time, their faces lighting up in synchronized joy.

"Totally worth the risk," Phil said through a mouthful of frosting.

Luke nodded enthusiastically, frosting smeared across his cheek.

But just then, Claire's voice echoed from the hallway. "Phil! Luke! What are you two doing in there?!"

Phil froze mid-chew, eyes wide. "Run!"

They both bolted out of the kitchen, cupcake crumbs trailing behind them.

[Pritchett-Delgado Shopping]

Jay, holding a crumpled shopping list in one hand and his coffee in the other, trudged along behind Vincente, who practically bounced down the electronics aisle with excitement.

Jay squinted at the list. "Alright, kid. You got your fancy ideas written here—graphics card, operating system, some kind of…engine? Is this a computer or a rocket ship?"

Vincente spun around dramatically. "Jay, a good PC is like a rocket ship. Precision engineering, optimal cooling, and enough power to handle the latest games and software."

Jay raised an eyebrow. "When I was your age, the closest thing we had to precision engineering was trying to keep the rabbit ears on the TV from falling over."

Unbothered, Vincente dashed ahead and stopped in front of a glass display showcasing mid-range GPUs from 2009. He pressed his hands against the glass like a kid at a candy store.

"Jay, look! The NVIDIA GeForce GTX 260 and the ATI Radeon HD 5770! These are perfect for what I need."

Jay squinted at the little cards below the GPUs. "Perfect? Kid, one of these costs more than my first car. And the other one looks like it could double as a toaster oven."

Vincente spun around with a gasp. "Jay! These are mid-range legends. They've got just enough VRAM to handle the rendering I need without bottlenecking the CPU. And look at those cooling designs—chef's kiss!" He made an exaggerated gesture.

Jay sipped his coffee and grumbled, "I understood maybe five percent of those words. And I'm pretty sure you just kissed the air."

Vincente rolled his eyes. "Just trust me. We need one of these if you want me to stop borrowing your computer every time I need to edit a video."

Jay sighed and tapped on the glass to get the attention of an employee. "Alright, fine. But this thing better make me look ten years younger every time I boot it up."

The employee approached with a polite smile. "Looking to upgrade your rig, sir?"

Jay pointed at Vincente. "Nope. He is. I'm just the guy holding the wallet and asking existential questions about why a computer part costs more than my monthly golf membership."

Vincente clapped his hands excitedly. "Oh, this is going to be so good."

As the employee unlocked the glass case, Jay muttered under his breath, "This better be worth it. I could've bought another dog butler with this money."

Vincente grinned ear to ear. "Jay, you're investing in the future. Think of it as… high-tech art!"

Jay smirked slightly. "Kid, don't start sounding like Phil, or I'm taking the dog butler out of storage."

Vincente snorted as they handed over the graphics card box. They moved toward the checkout, Jay still muttering about price tags while Vincente clutched the box like it was the crown jewels.

Jay, now pushing a shopping cart filled with an alarming mix of cables, cooling fans, and the newly acquired graphics card, followed Vincente through the labyrinth of aisles.

Jay groaned as he glanced at the ever-growing pile. "Alright, kid, explain this to me. We've got the… GTX Whatever-it-was, a motherboard that looks like it came out of the International Space Station, and enough LED lights to put on a Pink Floyd concert. What exactly are we building here? Skynet?"

Vincente spun around, holding a shiny, overpriced mechanical keyboard in one hand and a box of RAM sticks in the other. "Jay, we're building a machine capable of creating the next big hit. A game."

Jay raised an eyebrow. "You mean like Pac-Man?"

Vincente squinted at Jay. "Sure, Jay. Exactly like Pac-Man. Except instead of ghosts and dots, it's gonna have candy. Lots and lots of candy. I'm talking sugar explosions, power-ups, and dopamine hits on every level."

Jay nodded slowly. "Ah. So… diabetes in video game form. Got it."

Vincente ignored him and tossed the keyboard into the cart. It landed with an ominous clunk. "We need a powerful rig to handle the graphics rendering, asset creation, and maybe some light coding. Oh! Speaking of which…"

He darted down another aisle, leaving Jay momentarily stranded by an aggressive display of RGB mouse pads.

Jay shouted after him, "Hey! Don't just leave me here with all these…glow-in-the-dark carpets for mice!"

Vincente shrugged innocently, then tossed a set of ergonomic headphones into the cart. "We also need sound design. Candy can't just fall—it has to pop. It needs… pizzazz."

Jay looked down at the cart: GPUs, motherboards, keyboards, headphones, and more cables than the backend of a news studio.

"Kid, I'm pretty sure we could've just gone to a candy store and saved about three thousand dollars."

Vincente patted Jay's shoulder reassuringly. "Trust the process, Jay. We're building a legacy."

Jay shook his head with a sigh as they approached the checkout counter. The cashier, a chipper young guy with neon green hair and a nametag that read "Tyler – Tech Enthusiast", started scanning items.

Tyler grinned. "Whoa, you guys building a serious rig, huh? Is this for streaming? Are you mining crypto?"

Jay deadpanned, "No, apparently, we're building Candy Crush."

Tyler's smile froze. "Uh… like…what?"

Vincente beamed. "Yeah!" 

Tyler nodded slowly, scanning the textbook. "Cool… cool. That'll be… $3,289.47."

Jay froze. "You wanna run that by me again, pal?"

Tyler turned the screen around, showing the total.

Jay's jaw dropped. "Kid, this shopping cart costs more than my golf cart and my last vacation to Cabo combined!"

Vincente stared at Jay with wide, innocent eyes. "Jay… would you put a price on greatness?"

Jay sighed deeply, pulling out his wallet. "You better be the next Steve Jobs, kid."

Vincente grinned triumphantly as Jay handed over his credit card.

As the machine beeped and the receipt printed out in what felt like an endless scroll, Jay muttered under his breath, "Residual income… candy explosions… I need to start drinking decaf."

The cashier handed over the overflowing bags, and Vincente practically skipped towards the exit while Jay followed, carrying the rest of the bags and wondering how he got out-negotiated by an eight-year-old.

As they stepped into the parking lot, Jay glanced at Vincente. "Alright, kid. Next stop—home. And you better make that candy pop."

Vincente adjusted his oversized sunglasses, nodded sagely, and said, "Oh, it's gonna pop, Jay. It's gonna pop."

They climbed into the Cadillac, trunk stuffed with computer parts and dreams of sugar-coated success.

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Sorry for the delay, Due to the new year's and my new semester starting I forgot to upload. It will be like this for a while, so I apologize in advance.

Thank you for reading !!!