Feathers and Dust
By: Wilona Riva
Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom.
Hark, Hark
Hark hark
"Will you stop it already?" the ghost kid yelled, as I blasted his butt with the mini-ecto wrist gun I wore. "I had nothing to do with Cujo. I swear!"
the dogs do bark
"That old tiresome excuse?" I scoffed, raising my visor. "I wasn't born yesterday, Danny."
"Could of fooled me?" my boyfriend grumbled.
I folded my arms and glared at him. Tapping my foot, I growled at him, "I'm waiting."
He gulped and hung his head with shame. "Sam, " he mumbled.
I stopped tapping my foot and stared at him. "Come again?" I whispered, dumbfounded.
The beggars are coming to town
"Sam threatened to annihilate Cujo's squeaky toy if he didn't do it," he explained, looking up, a bemused tone to his voice.
"And what was your part in all this?" I said, still fuming a bit.
Some in rags and some in jags
"Guess," he dryly suggested.
"The frogs," I deadpanned.
"The frogs," he repeated.
Of course, we both broke down and cracked up then and there.
Only Sam could've come up with a plan as insane as today's biology ruckus.
And one in a velvet gown