Demons, Witches, and Toads (BoyxBoy)

Stuffed Animal Nightmare

"Priscilla, can I be honest with you?" Mulock asked.

The girl let out a heavy sigh. "I already know you're going to say something mean regardless of my answer. So sure. Let's just get it over with."

"This is the ugliest room I've ever seen in my life."

Wheeler (with Mister Pumpernickel perched on his shoulder) and Mulock currently sat in Priscilla's bedroom. Mulock had made a point to grimace at nearly every item there. Personally, Wheeler thought the room was rather sweet, though even he could admit it was...well...a little much.

The Packwood estate was the largest mansion he'd ever seen (granted, it was also the only mansion he'd ever seen) so Wheeler supposed it was only natural that Priscilla's bedroom alone was twice the size of the cottage he'd grown up in. The estate was so big, in fact, that they'd been here for nearly a week and Wheeler still had yet to even run into Priscilla's parents. The walls were covered in bright pink wallpaper, and there was a pile of stuffed animals so large it nearly reached the ceiling, obscuring nearly half the wall. Across from the bed was a painting of a young Priscilla's head drawn on top of the body of a unicorn.

"What the hell is that?" Mulock snapped, gesturing to the painting.

"I had it commissioned when I was a kid," Priscilla replied with a shrug. "Isn't it cute?"

"If you find Eldritch Abominations cute, maybe. But even that might be a bit of a stretch."

Wheeler attempted to adjust himself on the bed they sat on. This was actually a surprisingly difficult task due to the mountain of pillows and stuffed animals stacked on it.

"Well I think the painting is very nice, Priscilla," Wheeler said.

"Why, thank you, Wheeler. At least someone here has taste." Priscilla slid off the bed, standing in front of them as if she was about to present something at a meeting. "Now boys," she continued. "As you know, the Packwood ball is occurring in exactly one week's time, but uh...there's also another important thing happening that day." She took a deep breath. "It's going to be my eighteenth birthday."

Wheeler gasped. "What?! Priscilla! Why didn't you tell us?"

The girl shifted uncomfortably. "It always falls around the same time as the ball and my family is so busy hosting that I never really celebrate it."

"Oh gosh," Wheeler stammered. "I need to start my search for the perfect present as soon as possible." He thought for a moment. "How would you feel about a personalized jig?"

Mister Pumpernickel croaked excitedly at the prospect.

"Actually," Priscilla's gaze darted to the floor. "Wheeler...there's something you could do for me that would mean more than any present."

"Of course!" Wheeler said, perking up. "Anything you need, you've got it!" He followed this by giving her a thumbs up.

"So..." Priscilla began slowly. "I know you guys are totally fine with my preference for the fairer sex." She stared down at her hands. "But my father um...he expects me to get married to a wealthy noble's son and have his heir." She grimaced at the words. "Now that I'm of age, father's going to try and pair me with suitors throughout the entire ball. So I was wondering if, to avoid that..." She sighed heavily. "Wheeler, could you pretend to be some aristocratic I'm courting?"

Wheeler jerked backwards in surprise, knocking into the pile of stuffed animals which came crashing down over him like an avalanche. Finally his head popped out from amongst the plushies. "Um...wouldn't Mully be more suited to that?" he squeaked. "He's super handsome and suave and I'm uh...kinda...the opposite of that."

"That's the thing," Priscilla said, hesitating a moment. "Apparently, last week a party at the Blueridge estate was crashed by pixies. They made all the guests spin around the room and the hostess got sick and puked everywhere. The whole thing was a huge disaster. My father informed me this morning that due to the incident, he's putting up a barrier around the house blocking magical creatures."

"Well shit," Mulock said.

"It'll only last the length of the party. And the garden won't be affected if you'd want to stay there till it's over. But uh...yeah...as a magical cat, I don't think you'll be able to get in." Priscilla bowed her head. "I'm really sorry."

The demon shrugged. "It's fine. I'm not really one for parties anyways." An evil grin spread across his face. "Besides, Wheeler having to pretend to court you is more than enough of a consolation prize."

"Wha! Hey!" Wheeler gaped.

"I'll make sure to lurk by the window so I can watch the entire thing."

"Why?" Wheeler mumbled.

Mulock smirked, lightly chucking a stuffed animal at his head. "Because it's going to be hilarious."

Wheeler was about to glare at him when he noticed Priscilla watching anxiously, still waiting for his answer.

Right...this might just be an embarrassing night for Wheeler, but for Priscilla this could mean her entire future.

He had to help her.

Wheeler swallowed hard. "Okay...I'll try my best."

A look of relief instantly washed over Priscilla's face, her shoulders finally relaxing. "Thank you," she said softly. "Thank you so much."

"It's no problem! As long as it'll help, I'll do everything in my power to be the best suitor ever!" As he said this, Wheeler attempted to wiggle his way out of the pile of plushies. Unfortunately, this just caused even more to plummet down on top of him.

"Well, you're off to an amazing start," Mulock snickered.

Wheeler reached up to remove a massive octopus plush that had fallen on top of his head, its tentacles drooping down over his eyes. "Um...we won't have to kiss or anything, will we?"

Priscilla just about turned green. "Ewwwww, no, no, no. Wheeler, you're like a brother to me." She glanced at the demon beside him. "And then Mulock is like my other brother who's super mean and I like way less."

"Wow. Thanks," the demon replied dryly.

"Now," Priscilla continued, placing her hands on her hips, "let's just hope Wheeler and I can be convincing enough for my father. Maybe we should come up with some kinda backstory?"

"A backstory?" Wheeler thought for a moment. "That's a good idea!"

Mulock's eyes narrowed wickedly. "Wheeler, you should do an accent."

"No," Priscilla immediately cut in. "That would be awful."

"Precisely."

"What if my suitor name was Federico?" Wheeler asked excitedly.

"Frederico?" Priscilla gaped. "What the hell is a Frederico? Why would you even pick that?"

"It was the fanciest name I could think of. Aren't aristocrats fancy?"

"I mean...I guess," Priscilla said slowly.

"And do you know what would make him even fancier? An accent," Mulock added.

Priscilla shot him a sharp glare. "Accents are at the very bottom of our priority list. We still have to figure out where Frederico is from, how we met and fell in love, his appearance...wait..." Her eyes went wide. "His appearance! That's it! We need to give Wheeler a makeover!"

"Wha...wait what?!" Wheeler gasped.

"I've always wanted to give someone a makeover!" Priscilla squealed. "Ooooooh, this is going to be so much fun!" Looking nearly giddy with excitement, she jumped back onto her bed, flinging herself between the two boys. This caused even more stuffed animals to plummet onto poor Wheeler's head. "I'll buy you the perfect outfit, and we'll get your hair cut and your brows done, and you'll look so fabulous my father will be practically begging you to be his son in law!"

The wicked smile on Mulock's face grew. "Oh, now this I have to see."