All the good stuff belongs to Henson And Company.

Origin of this story: So I was wondering what would be the stupidest possible thing Jareth could ever say to Sarah.

This one earns its 'M' rating for gratuitous vulgarity and sexual references; vulgar sexual references. I should be terribly ashamed. You shouldn't even read this. Fairly warned be thee, says I.

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52: Fighting Style

"You think so?" he yelled, loud enough to shake the dust from the rafters in the throne room. "Well, I think otherwise. And I have ways of getting what I want!"

"Yeah?" she jeered. "What ways? Because I think you're full of baloney!'

The goblins' heads were turning back and forth as if they were watching a tennis match.

He crossed his arms and looked down his nose at her. "All I have to do is withhold my favors," he said loftily. "You'll give in soon enough."

"HA!" she said. "You'd give in long before I would."

"Would NOT!" He was back to yelling.

She laughed nastily. "All I'd have to do is crook my finger."

"Yeah? Well, I've got a stack of Playboys and an entire bottle of Jergens, so think again, Babycakes!" he roared.

Sarah's mouth dropped open. The goblins' mouths dropped open. Jareth was giddily horrified at his own words, as if he were on a roller coaster approaching the long drop.

The goblins exited as casually as they possibly could. The cacophony of their studiously nonchalant whistling sounded like the discordant tootling of a third grade flutophone band.

"Babycakes?" she said softly.

Jareth gulped.

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Don't ever call her Babycakes.

The makers of Jergens hand lotion have in no way agreed to participate in this story. Please hold them blameless.