Author: wobblestheclown (Scapegrace)
Deshomeh
=PAUSE O MEN FOR THE VIRGIN=

The creaking noise from upstairs was beginning to get on the clown's nerves.

Why had she introduced them? Well, she knew the answer; they were both alone and lonely, both adrift in a universe that didn't really care for its inhabitants all that much, and her self-imposed mission was to spread joy and laughter among her friends. She wasn't entirely certain what she'd made the two upstairs spread, but she could make a decent guess. The creaking was only getting worse.

Their courtship was something of a whirlwind romance, in that there had been loud noises and a staggering amount of property damage. Each of the pair had taken an almost instant dislike to the other that matured into mutual, staggeringly powerful hatred as time wore on. Hate, of course, is just love with a goatee glued on, so the clown didn't think it was surprising that they were now making, ahem... creaking noises. Damn her if they weren't grating on the ears, though.

Eventually, the clown admitted defeat and switched on her stereo. Deafening circus music expelled the creaking noises from her brain and she relaxed into a state of bliss. Upstairs, the pair began to match their pace with the disembodied oompah band.

Several hours later, the two looked each other in the eye.

"D'you think we ought to tone it down a bit?" asked Neshomeh.

"Nah," said Desdenelle, "this is revenge for the last time Sergio came over. I can still hear the squeaking from those balloons."

"Oh, yeah, that... happened." Neshomeh shuddered. "Ready for round," she glanced at the chart on the wall, "tilt?"

"Aw, we broke the counter again. That does explain why I could smell smoke about an hour ago."

"I thought it was you trying to use the microwave again."

"I - that thing is not a microwave. It is a portal into Hell. Shaped like a microwave."

"Well, yeah, but it reminds me of home."

"Half-succubus-half-angel-half-elf-half-dwarf=half-halfling-half-kitsune-half-dimensional-shambler-half-weasels. Who'd date 'em?"

"Halfwits."

"Touché."

"Don't mind if I do!"

The next morning, they found Wobbles cowering in the corner with eighteen pairs of earmuffs and a bucket on her head.