Angie leaped heroically to the occasion. "I'll get her flask!" she yelled, realizing that the entire balance of the known world depended on getting Imp her precious, her tea. "Just…just wait!"
"Er…wait?" Singe repeated as she watched the sobbing mass that was Imp squirm in physical pain. It was then that she heard the fateful words, the Words of Deep Shit. "Cuppa tea is all I need," whined Imp, "Cuppa tea is all I need,"
Singe screamed in horror.
Lange screamed in horror.
Frodo Baggins screamed in horror…opps. Wrong fan fic…
But those Words of Deep Shit sent Singe scrambling into the wormhole, her heart filled with a terrible fear. "Angie! Wait up!" she yelled.
It was not a few minutes later—though to Lange it seemed like hours, watching Imp quickly foam at the mouth—when Angie and Singe returned triumphant. Though, only to a certain degree. For clinging to Angie's leg, was Christian. "Oh gross!" she cried, trying to shake him off, "He's like a dog!"
Angie surveyed the scene. Imp was beginning to wreak havoc, and Lange had tried to hide behind the wormhole. Angie raised the tea flask high above her head. "Imp! Be calm! For I have returned bearing…Ofmph!" Angie's dramatic return was stopped short as she was tackled by a half-crazed (but not totally bonkers) Imp, who began to viciously claw at Angie's arm.
Singe took the flask from Angie, and dangled it bravely in front of Imp's face. "Imp! Tea! Here!"
Imp snarled as she lunged for the flask. With it safely in hand, she quickly began to calm down as she began to drink it madly.
With the threat of Imp gone, Christian once again latched himself onto Angie. "I just saw the UGLIEST girl," he said in awe as he clung to Angie's leg again. "But you sure are pretty!"
"Ug...Loser!" Angie said as she tried to shake him off again. Finally, she had to resort to rapping him with a ray of clams. "Ha! Take that!"
"Quick!" Singe urgently said. "Shove him back in before,"
But she was too late, for it was then that Erika caught sight of her unfaithful and cruel snooknums. "BWAAAHAHAHAHAAA!" she cried, large tears flowing from under her mask.
"Oh boy, not again," Lange muttered. "Erika! He's just not worth it!"
Angie unceremoniously pushed him back into the wormhole, and then zipped it up. Folding it up, she stuck it in her pocket.
Singe heaved a sigh of relief at his dissapperance. For weeks after her ordeal, she would still have the nightmares of his girly giggling. "So..." she said, jumping onto Angie's shoulder. "Um... now what?"
By this point Imp was stroking her flask and addressing it alone. "Yesss my preciousss…letss' go take her to Erik…"
The group made their way along the shore of the lake. Grabbing the boat, they hopped in (and helped the still despondent Erika into the boat) and rowed towards the lair—Imp still stoking the flask, Erika still sniffling, Angie brooding over unseen danger, and Singe and Lange otherwise happy.
They reached the other shore and leapt out of the boat (but making sure to help the STILL despondent Erika out) Then, walking into the house, they found Erik, pacing in front of the fireplace. He was pondering to himself, in the lovely, Erik way he ponders. "Maybe I could hang the scarf on a fishing line, and hold it in every which direction, jerking it away constantly and watching him bang into walls until he dies?" he muttered. "He might die of brain injurires…if he HAD a brain…but he doesn't have a brain! Scratch that idea…"
Angie shoved her way in front of the group and struck a godly pose. "Behold, tis I!"
Erik looked up and saw all but Erika, who was hidden behind the Phab Phour. "Girls!" he cried happily, for they WERE the only friends he had. "My dears! Come, sit! Imp, would you like some tea?"
Imp started to madly nod her head, looking for all the world like she was head banging.
Erik ran into the kitchen to make her her tea, since there was ALWAYS hot water on the stove in the Lair, ever since the WWAD had taken up residence. "I'm up to number 67 on how to kill Raoul!" Erik yelled from the kitchen.
Erik came back out of the kitchen with a steamy mug of tea. He looked at the girls fondly. "It's good that you showed up. Lately I don't like having been left alone—strange thoughts, you know."
It was then that Erika looked up from the doorway. Her eyes fell upon Erik, and seeing him shocked her out of crying.
Erik, however, had still not noticed Erika. "Anyway, number 67 is that I tie a dozen red scarves to the chandelier. Then, I make it drop—the fop will surely try to catch it, and then, be killed!"
Lange and Imp sadistically snickered.
Singe laughed out loud. "Such a wonderful sense of humor!" She jumped onto Erik's shoulder and kissed his forehead.
Then, a soft voice came from the doorway. "He's...but…this is MY house," Erika whispered in shock. Her voice grew louder as she continued. "But...but...this is MY lair!"
Lange shook her head in a patronizing yet jovial manner. "No, no-- this is his house," Lange explained as she sighed, looking for all the world like she was preparing to swoon.
But Erika was adament. "That's MY sofa!"
"No no, Erika," Singe replied, shaking her head in a patronizing manner as well. "That's *ERIK'S* sofa."
"Excuse me..." Erik started as he looked at her. "But who are..." but he fell silent when he finally glimpsed the mask she wore.
Angie finished chugging her lemonade that she had *phoofed* into appearance. "Oh, that's Erika…unstable little mortal," she said. She paused to burp. "But she's just like you!"
Erika and Erik just stood there, staring at each other in shock.
"Just WHAT is going on around here!?!" Erika finally asked, her voice trembling.
Imp just squealed in glee, as she tightened her grip around her tea mug.
