And I, Dear Madame, Am A Professional

by Sugar Skulls

It didn't matter what you called those two: best friends, lovers, partners in crime, whatever. He was the cheese to her macaroni, she was the fungus to his decomposing flesh. Thick as thieves, that Lydia and Beetlejuice. DRABBLES.

And I, Dear Madame, Am A Professional

By: Sugar Skulls

Author's Note: Um. Yeah.This stupid little bugger popped into my head during my—ahem—time of month and I stumbled across the Beetle Juice movie on ABC Family. It's very short, kind of icky and awkward, and completely random. This is based on the cartoonverse, just so you know. And, like my drabble series for The Great Mouse Detective, the title of this story has nothing to do with anything. I was just listening to a song as I wrote this.

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Beetlejuice peered down at Lydia's curled little form on her bed, his eyebrows raised in wonder. He snorted when Lydia emitted a loud, pained groan, and wound her arms tightly around her abdomen.

"C'mon, babes," Beetlejuice said with a roll of his eyes, "it can't be that bad."

Lydia lolled her head to the side, pressing her face into her pillow, and shrieked, "Shut the hell UP, Beetlejuice!"

Beetlejuice spread his hands wide. "I don't get why you hate it so much, Lyds. I think it's pretty great!" He cackled loudly. "I mean, think about it! You're bleedin' from yer hoo-ha! It doesn't get much grosser than that!"

In an instant, Lydia wrenched herself upright to slap the appreciative grin right off Beetlejuice's decaying face. He glowered and rubbed his sore, enflamed cheek as Lydia stomped furiously out of her bedroom, screaming obscenities at him over her shoulder at the top of her lungs.

"Ugh," Beetlejuice groaned, wiggling his dislocated jaw with a wince. "The PMS, though, I ain't that big a fan of."

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As always, this will become a drabble series. This chapter's theme is "appreciation." If anybody reviews this, I'd love it if you suggested a single word for another drabble theme!