A/N: Why did I write this crap when I have a ton of updates to finish? DX

Warnings: Crack, PWP.


It was a beautiful, wonderful, brimming-with-possibilities morning. Michael was seated in front of the grimy kitchen table; poring over a spell on turning blonde hair magenta while munching contentedly on a slice of toast. As far as mornings went, all was going splendidly when...

Out of nowhere, a small, beastly spider swooped out the blue and descended on the tattered edge of Michael's book.

Michael loathed spiders with a passion, so it was no surprise that his gut immediately sent him into Ninja Assassin Mode; lunging for a broomstick standing innocently in the corner and sending the hapless little creature to his doom with the dull stub on the end... multiple times.

Yes. Michael had been gifted the ability to take and give life when in rampaging killer mode.

Howl—who had been screaming: "AND THEN JUST TOUCH ME 'TIL I GET MY SATISFACTION" on endless loop— suddenly skidded into the room. His super-sonic hearing had picked up the tiniest scream of "Tell my wife I love her!"

His eyes widened as he spotted the twitching thing on the table, all the guts pouring over the page number. It was like a scene from CSI, but without all the constipated-looking faces staring at him like man-meat.

"Y-you killed him!" Howl howled, clearly distraught at the loss of his eight-legged amigo. He cupped the dying creature in his hands while a jittery Michael stood beside with eyes like saucers and the weapon clutched to his chest.

"And he had so much to live for yet!" he shrieked, green ooze building up through the grooves of the floor. "Twenty-five children! Never will he get the chance to see them get their driver's license or learn to walk! I hope you'll never be able to sleep again with the knowledge of twenty-five fatherless babies wandering the floorboards alone!"

"I'm killing it? Look who's snuffing out the spider's last sparks with all the tears he's pouring!" Michael cried, looking very upset. Could he be blamed for his fear of arachnids? Okay, maybe... But why in the world was Howl so obsessed with them, anyway? All they did was cover the house in sticky gray string and hog all the room under his bed. Room which he could no longer use to store his "special" magazines.

Howl melted into a boneless lump as he cradled the spider, which was now beginning to see the light, in his hands.

Michael could only stare disgustedly at the ectoplasm beginning to crust around his shoe.

Howl launched into another rigmarole about every life being precious. Which was pretty hypocritical of him since he murdered people every night in his super awesome birdman form.

He's just begging to be slapped, Michael thought irritably. If it wasn't for his second fear of drowning in foul green substances, he would have whipped out the broom again and gone on a spider killing spree,with pleasure.

But he was too nice a boy.

"Just you watch!" Howl muttered, still cupping his darling child. He looked like a lunatic hunched over in such a manner. "One day — and you won't know when — I'll smack you around with one of my one-handed jinxes. Calcifer knows what I will wreak on your pitiful, arachnid-hating soul." For emphasis, Howl clutched his other hand tightly and raised his eyebrows in a crazed, daring expression. He had seen in a movie. In the background, Calcifer grumbled about having become the new swear word.

*crunch*

Michael and Howl both looked at each other stupidly before turning to the miniscule blood trickling down Howl's wrist

"I... I..." Howl's bottom lip quivered, a tear dripping onto his damp chest.

Before Michael could say, "BOO YAH!" Howl had passed out on the stool he had been blubbering over.

Michael cursed under his breath and considered his current position. He could either get Howl cleaned up, or, being the most attractive choice, zap Howl's hair magenta and give him an old-fashioned markered mustache.

But there were no markers... or bananas... Gods he wanted a banana right then.

Michael shrugged, leaning down to swipe at the floor. "Guess this'll have to do till lunch," he said, popping the spider in his mouth and walking away from Howl who was still twitching in agony.