A/N: I return with the next installment of The Attic. I know you've all been patiently waiting, so here it is! Not quite as long as the previous long, but enjoy, everyone!

Disclaimer: I don't own Disney.

At the sound of screams coming from the attic, everyone fled for cover. Emily must be singing again. They thought that this current song that she was working on might be a duet with a cat who was repeatedly being whacked with a frying pan.

They all tentatively emerged from hiding when they realized that Emily was hiding under the dining room table with them. This was odd. She never came out of the came bustling into the dining room, looking frazzled, but at the sight of Emily, turned on his heel, attempting to escape as quickly as possible, but it was too late. Emily had seen him.

"George!" she cried, "Oh, George! Come here! Get that priss out of my attic! But he had already run away again. She humphed.

"I'll just have to deal with her myself," she muttered, and stomped off towards the stairs.

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Constance glared at Hatsworth.

"Pick. It. Up." she hissed.

"Yes, mistress," he wheezed, and hobbled over, gathering the head with a shudder and carefully placing it back in its home.

"Now, get out of my sight!" she screeched. He hurried over to the door, but when he opened it found that Emily was standing behind it with murder in her eyes.

"Hag!" she screamed over his shoulder to Constance. "You kicked me out!"

Constance quirked an eyebrow at the young girl.

"Hatsworth," she said carelessly, "Remove her." He hastened to do so, but before he could, the bride had whacked him with her bouquet, causing him to burst into a sneezing fit.

"I-m…..all-allergic to….pollen," he gasped. They ignored him, focused intently on glaring at each other.

"Why are you here?" Emily asked. Constance sniffed with disdain.

"Why are you here?" was the reply.

"Because I died in this attic," she said, "Your turn."

Constance sighed, but plunged headfirst into her tale.

"Well, it all started when I first got married…" she began.

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Half an hour later, Emily sat sobbing, clutching to Constance in a way that seemed to deeply irritate the harsh bride.

"T-that's j-just so…s-sad!" Emily cried. Constance rolled her eyes.

"You get over it," she replied in a bored tone.

"I know!" Emily said brightly through her tears, "We'll all help you!" she said.

"No!" Constance cried, but Emily was already dashing downstairs to rally the mansion.