For the record, I made up all Plato's attack moves.


"What is this?"

"That's a plate, Plato."

"What about this?"

"It's a napkin, Plato."

"How do you eat it?"

"You don't eat it, Plato."

"What's it for?"

"To wipe your mouth, Plato."

"Then can we eat it?"

"You can't eat it, Plato."

This... was... TORTURE.

How could Jemima survive the night, eating dinner and possibly having to kiss the idiot! Jemmie took it back. Scrubbing was WAY better than this torture."

"When do we eat?"

"When mom says so, Plato."

He was so... STUPID! And to make it even worse, Demeter was forcing Jemima to eat with him alone in the dark by candle light.

"I can't see my paw, Jemima."

"I can't see mine either, Plato."

"You look like a ghost, Jemima."

"I'm thrilled, Plato."

"Do you want to know what I'm good at?"

"No."

"Okay, I can do a double, triple screaming banshee attack on warlocks!"

"Lovely."

"You're lovely, Jemima."

"Splendid."

"My triple blue and green staff with 90 power is splendid, Jemima."

"Oh, I bet."

"What's for dinner, Jemima?"

"I don't know, Plato."

"Why not, Jemima?"

"I just don't know."

Plato stared at his plate, and attempted to eat his napkin.

Jemima rolled her eyes and then looked at her mother when she brought in what their supper would be.

"Bon appétit!" Demeter sang, putting down the bowls in front of them.

Jemima felt very excited for a few seconds, before she realized what it was her and Plato would have for their first date.

Spaghetti O's.

At least Plato was thrilled, he started to immedietly order the biggest ones into a pile and the smaller ones into a pile.

"I like Spaghetti O's, Jemima."

She slammed her face into her bowl.