Count Bleck and his minions sat at the long dinner table, eating their dinner of Squig stew. Conversation was kept at a minimum, for it had been a long day of evil-doing and everyone was tired.
Out of the blue, Mimi blurted out, "Count, when is your birthday?"
"Ah," the Count muttered awkwardly, staring into his bowl.
"He'd rather not talk about it, Mimi," Nastasia said.
"Why not?"
"Because…" Nastasia sighed. "Just eat your stew."
"But, Count!" Dimentio exclaimed, perking up. "Such secrets must never be kept from family members. We are family, are we not?"
"C'mon, Count!" O'Chunks urged. "You kin tell us!"
"No," Nastasia said, with a hint of annoyance in her voice.
"No, it's fine," the Count sighed. "Although when Count Bleck talks about his birthday, it brings back bad memories."
Nastasia patted his hand. "Perhaps it would be better if you didn't."
The Count waved her off. "Count Bleck was born on August 12. Every year on my birthday, my parents would give me a nice gift. But after my mother's game ended, my father and I became less and less close. Finally, one birthday—Count Bleck cannot remember which—we got into a very bad argument." He stopped suddenly and began staring at his dinner again.
Nastasia nodded. "That's all you need to say, Count."
"August 12," Mimi muttered under her breath. "August 12."
…
After dinner was over and the Count retired to his bedroom, Mimi beckoned for O'Chunks and Dimentio to follow her into her own room.
It looked like any preteen girl's room (except for the disturbing drawings on the wall and the pile of Rubees in the corner), with a closet full of all kinds of outfits. Mimi sat cross-legged on her frilly bed, while the boys took to the animal-print cushions on the floor.
"I've been thinking," Mimi announced, "of throwing the Count a surprise party."
"Whoa! Really?" O'Chunks gasped.
Dimentio snickered. "I already knew that. I've read it in that special little book of yours."
"Dang it, Dimentio! Stay out of my diary!" Mimi screamed, hurling a pillow at the jester.
"Mercy!" Dimentio cried.
Mimi smoothed out her dress. "Anyway, it's July 7. That gives us plenty of time."
"To do what?" Dimentio asked, his eyes narrowing.
O'Chunks nodded. "Yeah, don' we 'afta get the supplies an' whatnot?"
Mimi furrowed her brow and chewed her bottom lip. "Well," she drawled, "all we need are a few decorations and some food. Some music, too."
"Yes, but the cost of all this must be terrific!" Dimentio argued. "You know we're not the wealthiest villains in the dimensions."
"Ah think we're the only ones, lad," O'Chunks said.
"That's not the point!" Dimentio snapped. "How—and where—will we be able to get these things?"
"Ugh!" Mimi groaned, flopping facedown onto the covers. "I had a bad feeling about this. I knew it wouldn't work." She sounded as though she would start crying.
"Cheer up, lass," O'Chunks said, patting the green girl on the back with a little too much force. "Per'aps we kin work with what we 'ave. We don' 'afta go all out."
Mimi sighed and sat up. "I guess so…maybe we'll find a cheap party store somewhere."
"Really, all we need are balloons—there's a bag of them in my closet—a cake, a few snacks, and we could use Mimi's radio for music," Dimentio suggested. "And Nastasia's approval."
"She's probably gonna say no," Mimi muttered gloomily. "She hates parties."
"But this one's fer the Count," O'Chunks reminded her. "An' it'll jus' be the five o' us."
"True."
"Why don't we ask her now?" Dimentio said. "That way we can figure out what in Grambi's name we are doing."
"Where is she?" Mimi asked.
"In her study, I think. Let's go!"
…
Nastasia gasped as the three other minions burst through her study door. "What do you guys want?" she sighed.
"We want to throw the Count a surprise party," Mimi explained.
Nastasia shook her head. "Oh, you guys. That's just too much work."
"I knew it!" Mimi pouted.
"Now hang on, Mimi, don't get your skirt in a bunch," Dimentio said. To Nastasia, he said: "My dear, you've always wanted to please the Count. What better way to do it than to throw him a nice little party? I promise we won't make any messes that we can't clean up. It shall be an inexpensive affair, and we'll all pitch in to help prepare the event." He grinned a charismatic grin and spread his arms wide. "So, what do you say? Make the Count happy, or let him go on without another birthday party for the rest of his life?"
Mimi and O'Chunks watched Nastasia hopefully.
The secretary sighed and rubbed her neck. "Dimentio, I know you've perfected the art of persuasion, and I must say that's a pretty good pitch you had there." She stopped and looked at the other two minions. "And I know you guys really, really want to do this…but I just don't know."
"Oh please, Nassy?" Mimi begged, kneeling down. "Pretty please with whipped cream, sprinkles, and a cherry on top?"
O'Chunks licked his lips. "Mmm, ah could go fer a sundae righ' now."
Nastasia took in a deep breath. "Alright. But first we need to discuss this a little further."
"Hooray!" Mimi and O'Chunks cried, jumping up and down.
Dimentio smirked and bowed. "My work here is done."
"Oh no, it's not," Nastasia said. "Come on, guys, we've got to get busy planning this birthday party."