A/N: I forgot a disclaimer, but it's pretty obvious I don't own Cirque du Soleil. If I did, the Twin brother would be long dead and the Counselor's son and the Chief Archer's Daughter would have purple haired children.
_-*Fleur Was Thinking (Again)*-_
After being slapped by an angel, Fleur realized maybe his stuff wasn't stuffy stuff meaning it was the wrong kind of stuff. So he wandered back over to the kingdom of KĀ.
The Counselor's Son was still embedded in his work (it took some time to get free of the super-instant-death-adhesive glue he used) and didn't seem to mind the helping hand of Fleur. Which, of course, was not extended seeing as it was clad in the finest velvet gloves.
"I tried to do stuff. But it didn't work. What should I do?" Fleur asked the genius sitting beside him, stuck by the seat of his pants to his work.
"Stuff," he replied, attempting freedom but finding no luck.
"Genius! What kind of stuff?"
"Stuffy stuff."
"My god, man, you're incredible! Stuffy stuff could be put under the category of..?"
"Stuff."
"Why didn't I think of that? Thank you, Super-Glue Man!"
"…My name is the Counselor's Son."
"What an awful name."
"'Fleur' is so much better?"
"Why yes it is."
"Our current monarch is named the Twin Brother. Beat that."
"Well- I- I have a subject named the White Singer!"
"…Meaning you're the odd one out. Ha. I win."
"At what?"
"…Stuff."
Fleur was pleased with this answer and left.
At his arrival, another angel slapped him and the Black Singer hissed from her darkened corner before her counterpart happened to see her atrocious behavior and got out the water squirter.