"No," Dastardos said with a quick glare at Pester, most of his attention optimized by the uncooperative Mallowolf he had in a choke hold, a sour sweet in his other hand.
"Yes," Pester glared right back.
"NO," Dastardos shoved his entire arm into the Mallowolf's mouth and it started gagging up a storm.
"YES," Pester crossed his arms, giving Dastardos his most evil squint.
"N-" Dastardos was interrupted by the Mallowolf retching a retch like it had never retched before and vomiting what appeared to be sparkling pink, white, and blue sugar water with bits of paper in it all over the front of Dastardos' sweater, the sour sweet stuck smack in the middle of the splatter. "UGH!" Dastardos let his guard down and the Mallowolf managed to dart off down one of the corridors. "Professor, you made me screw up!" Dastardos leered accusingly at his boss, lashing out at him with one end of his puke-covered scarf.
"Eugh!" Pester dodged quickly and leaned forward with his hands on his hips. "If you would have just AGREED with me, you wouldn't be sitting in that vile mess!"
"I am NOT going to any party," Dastardos threw his scarf off and it landed with a splat! on one of Pester's good chairs. "Besides, the Sour population has really thinned out lately and I need to fix that! Don't you WANT there to be more Sours, Pester? Just let me stay here!"
"Dastardos…Dastardos…Dastardos…" Pester would have slipped an arm around Dastardos' shoulders if he wasn't dripping in sugary stomach contents. "No one is going to be around to appreciate them! They'll all be at that skinny little fop's party…and I want to go there too!" Pester rubbed his meaty hands together. "It's Halloween…and Halloween means candy!"
"I've seen more than enough candy this evening," Dastardos looked down at his sweater, his mask twisted in disgust. "Not to mention people will be leaving their gardens alone. It's a perfect night to-"
"No, Dastardos, we're going to this party and that's final," Pester's tone was horribly serious and bone-chillingly cold. It actually made Dastardos shut his mouth…but only for a moment.
Dastardos pulled out his last excuse card. "People will recognize us. We'll get thrown out."
"Don't you fret, I thought of EVERYTHING!" Pester threw his arms out. "As usual!" he added with a smirk. "I'll be wearing a full costume, completely decked out and unrecognizable! And pretty much the most stupefying thing ever, I must say! I have just the thing for you, too!" Pester ran into the other room and came flying back out moments later, one hand holding a witch mask and hat and the other holding a long, black cloth.
"…No," Dastardos backed up.
"Yes!" Pester insisted. "You need new clothes, anyway, do you want to go out looking like that?"
"I'd rather go out in a vomit-sweater than a dress," Dastardos eyed the black garment with immense disdain.
Pester exhaled. "It isn't a dress, it is a robe," Pester threw the costume items at Dastardos' feet. "I better see an evil little witch in this room when I come back if know what's good for yoooou~!"
Dastardos had never heard a more threatening sing-song. He groaned as Pester trounced off to change in whatever insane outfit he had planned for himself. Dastardos discarded his stained sweater and mask, barely believing what he was going to do.
He moved robotically as he put the costume on, barely resisting the urge to tear it up and flee. Once he had snapped the mask's strap to the back of his head, he floated over to the nearest mirror to look at himself. He hunched over like a broken puppet when he saw his reflection.
It was going to be a looooooooooong night.