1 Tracy (Pilot Part 1)

Soft snores could be heard within the large lime green wallpapered bedroom that morning.

A figure was hidden beneath a vintage transformers Bumblebee duvet, curled seemingly into a ball underneath the covers fast asleep. The rhythmic rising and falling of the blanket indeed showed proof of life.

The alarm clock on the two drawer mahagony nightstand next to the bed had been going off for the past 15 minutes.

The " We Are The Champions" song would start playing every 5 minute interval.

Footsteps could be heard approaching swiftly towards the room.

After 20 seconds passed, the door was flung open by a burly middle aged man with sandy blonde hair that just reached down to the ends of his earlobes.

The man stared at the figure on the bed for a moment before letting out a quiet sigh.

George Green normally wouldn't have to wake up his eldest daughter Tracy, but lately he had noticed this kiddo of his was a bit depressed.

Which was entirely unlike her considering his daughter took after his kind hearted muscle head tendencies.

Quietly the George tiptoed over to the bedside, he gingerly grabbed the duvet in his hands, before yanking it with all his might.

Tracy tumbled into the floor like a ragdoll in a X position with her arms and legs splayed out as if about to make angels in the snow.

Her platinum blond waves looked like a squirrel had decided to make it's abode on top of her head.

"Tracy dear, it's time for college." George said as much as he sighed. This daughter of his could sleep like a rock when she didn't want to wake up.

"French fries..." Tracy whispered as she rubbed her little nose which she had ground against the 1970's themed carpet in her bedroom the the wrong way.

'Hopefully it doesn't leave a carpet burn' She thought to herself before bleakly opening her ice blue eyes.

"Your cousins will be at college..." George tried throwing out a line towards his daughter.

He knew his daughter Tracy loved her cousins very much, so he hoped this got her up and going.

Tracy blinked her eyes a few times as if calculating something.

Hooked!

Tracy promptly sat up from the carpet and nimbly jumped to her feet in a ninja like move.

Gone was the mopey, tired, sleepy rock.

Tracy was now like a dog happy to see its packmates.

A big heartfelt smile plastered across her gorgeously symmetrical face.

Tracy didn't notice her dad take a deep inhale at this sight.

When did his daughter get so pretty? Was the thought that currently crossed George's mind before being rudely pushed aside as

Tracy flew out of her bedroom.

George looked over to the fish tank in the corner. Harry the Goldfish was currently looking very moody, it almost seemed as if the goldfish was sentiment for a second. Rubbing his eyes George unconsciously started to walk towards the corner in which the fish tank and a dusty electric guitar sat.

Harry the Goldfish noticed the humans curious eyes on him and promptly swam up to the top of the tank, opening his mouth multiple times as if to say, 'This lord is hungry, feed me servant.'

George realized the fish was probably just hungry because Tracy forgot to feed it, he shook off his bizarre thoughts before reaching out and grabbing the fish food for the pet goldfish that Tracy had gotten when she was little from the fair.

Being that Tracy was little when she got it, she had given it a rather cute but bizarre name.

She had claimed the fish she won from the fair game was actually a prince and his name was Harry.

So she had officially named the fish "Harry His Highness".

After feeding the fish George glanced at the guitar and leaned over to brush the dust off it.

Poor Harper. It had been over two years since he had heard his daughter play Harper.

Yes, she named her guitar with a name beginning with a 'H' as well.

The guitar was named Harper because it looked kinda like a harp. That was what she told her parents, who then went out and bought a harp for her to play which she did very well on for about 6 years before saying it wasn't loud enough and switched back to the guitar named Harper. She also named her harp Tarzan. Tracy said the vertical long strings reminded her of the vines that the TV character Tarzan liked to swing around from.

Dashing down the stairs without delay she leaped the last few steps and didn't stop for even a moment to catch her breath. That's because Tracy didn't need too. Whether it was Track and Field, Cross Country, Soccer, Karate, Gymnastics or Ballroom dancing, Tracy did it all.

If it involved you moving around and getting competitive, Tracy did it all. Although she wouldn't admit to the numerous ballroom dancing award ribbons buried deeply in her closet. She had been forced to sign up for that one... by her mother. She had tried to persuade her that ballet looked cooler with the leaps and what not but her mom said she had to learn how to be a lady. Tracy's arguement had been that ballet was indeed very feminine but her mother said she'd understand when she was older.

Tracy recently turned 22, so...one would wonder when she would finally understand the reasoning behind it.

Probably never.

As Tracy flew down the stairs making her way swiftly to the kitchen she almost ran into Duke, startling the dog.

"Oops sorry bud! I'll get you some steak later as a apology!" said Tracy with pep.

Jumping to avoid a catastrophic collision Tracy proceeded to roll into the kitchen sliding across what was probably not the cleanest floor.

Time for breakfast!