"I have deep misgivings about this," said Myotismon, watching the girls flit to and fro like butterflies on a summer evening.
Piedmon did not reply. He had found the remote for the television, and frowned down at it, pushing random buttons. The screen sprang to life. Piedmon's eyes widened as he watched a man drone on about the importance of dental hygiene. "Why don't we have anything like this?" he mused aloud.
"Piedmon! Must you constantly behave like an ass?" Myotismon glared at his rival.
Piedmon did not bother to look up, but continued to fiddle with his new toy. "'Ass', is it, Myotismon? Has anyone bothered to tell you that Hallowe'en isn't for another three months?"
Myotismon's habitual snarl intensified. "Give me that," he ground out from between clenched teeth. "I don't know why I bother talking to you." He looked down at a bewildering array of tiny buttons, each bearing indecipherable symbols. Hazarding a guess, he pushed one. The television channel changed from a lecture on dental hygiene to a vigorous young couple vigorously coupling. Myotismon stared at them in amazement. Piedmon stared at them in keen interest.
The moaning was loud enough to attract Mimi's attention. She saw what was on the screen, and her face froze in shock and embarrassment. Without thinking, she grabbed the remote from Myotismon's hand, and turned the set off.
"Oh, my...goodness," gasped Mimi, face scarlet, eyes wide open. Grasping desperately for composure, she forced a candy-sweet smile that almost looked real. "We're almost ready. That reminds me. What would you two like to eat?"
"Blood," said Myotismon.
Mimi blinked, mind unmercifully blank yet again. All the etiquette in the world could not ever have prepared her for this situation. "Well...yes. But what else would you like?"
Myotismon stared down at her, the corner of his mouth twisted into a moue of disgust. "What else is there?"
Mimi gulped, and wished herself elsewhere, if only for a few minutes. "Pizza?"
"Pizza?" said Piedmon, who looked pleased. Myotismon gave both of them a black look.
"But I'm sure something else can be arranged," improvised Mimi, wondering what the local butcher shop could sell her.
Myotismon nodded, eyes still narrowed. He turned his back to both of them in a remarkable simulation of a human huff.
From the kitchen came Sora's voice. "Garbage pizza and deep-dish pepperoni okay?" Sora stuck her head out to look.
"Yes," answered Mimi, not daring to take her eyes off either Digimon. "That's fine. And some cheese bread, too."
"Okay." Sora disappeared back into the kitchen.
Piedmon grew instantly wary. "'Garbage' pizza? Just what is that supposed to be?" He stared down at Mimi.
Mimi could feel herself shrivel under the brunt of his gaze. Gathering what little nerve she had, she piped up. "Oh! That just means with everything on it," she hastily assured him.
Piedmon's eyebrows furrowed deeply, as he abruptly went from hostile to confused. "Oh. I see."
"No, you don't," countered Myotismon, in disgusted tones.
"Bite me, Myotismon," said Piedmon, giving him a gesture he had learned watching the Digidestined.
"In your dreams," said Myotismon.
"Well, now that that's decided, shall we don our ceremonial robes?" Mimi sighed mentally, and promised herself a new dress for her pains. She had earned it.
Piedmon looked thrilled.
"Yes," snapped Myotismon. "Let's get this over with."
Mimi made her way into the living room, the two Digimon in tow. She stopped at the pile of sheets, comforters, bedspreads and the odd curtain or two, mentally sorting them out. There had to be something that looked good on seven foot tall monsters, didn't there? Her mother spent enough time at white sales trying to find that perfect sheet set. Aha, red satin king sized sheets. Perfect. She had forgotten that St. Valentine's Day when her father had attempted to turn their home into a 'love nest', and snickered. Her mother's face froze when she saw the results, and wondered aloud why her husband wanted his family to live in a bordello. After that, her father never tried his hand at interior decorating again. Still, the sheets would come in handy. But what would the other one wear? Mimi bit her lip. Better still, who would wear this?
She was saved from that dilemma, as Piedmon grabbed the sheets, his eyes sparkling with glee. "Perfect," he said.
Myotismon's lips twisted into a moue of distaste. "With green trousers?"
"Sod off, Myotismon," replied Piedmon, holding a sheet against himself experimentally. "I like red."
Mimi watched the two snipe at each other, her mind wrestling with the problem of exactly what to do with the sheets. Sora stepped in at that point.
"Here," said Sora, grabbing the sheet out of Piedmon's hands. "Let me help you with that. She twisted, pulled, and wound the soft fabric deftly. Within minutes, it had become a serviceable toga.
Mimi's jaw dropped. She had watched the entire thing, and still couldn't fathom how Sora had done it. "How...?"
"The Discovery Channel," said Sora. "It was some show about fashion through the ages."
Mimi's eyebrows shot up. She might actually have to watch something educational sometime, if it had to do with clothes.
"And now for you," said Sora, looking Myotismon up and down, trying very hard to imagine something he could wear. "I'm thinking you may have to take off the cape -"
"Cloak," Myotismon corrected her icily.
"Er, cloak," Sora quickly amended. She stared at the pile of cloth, hoping for a brainstorm. "How do you feel about brocade?" Her eye fell upon a gold and black paisley comforter than seemed to have potential. Where was Mimi when you needed her?
From the kitchen, Sora could hear Mimi talking on the phone. "...no, sir, this isn't a prank. I would not be calling you if I didn't absolutely need it." A pause. "Why blood? Well, we have some very important visitors from a foreign country with strict dietary laws." True enough, she supposed.
There was another lengthy pause. "No, no, please don't hang up! I -" Silence. There was a plaintive sigh. Mimi stuck her head out to look at Sora. "This is going to take longer than I thought."
"Mimi, what are you doing?" Sora stared at Mimi.
"Getting something for Myotismon to eat," explained Mimi. "Right now, we don't have anything."
Sora sighed, too. "Doesn't do pizza. Right." Why were there never any vegan supervillains?
The tall digital vampire lord stared down at her. "That's right. I don't 'do' pizza." A wicked smile curved his lips upward, exposing both canines. "But I'm sure you'll do nicely."
Sora caught a glimpse of razor sharp white teeth pointed in her general direction, and desperately wanted him to be somewhere else tonight. Tonight was supposed to be fun. "Uh, Mimi, why don't you try calling my uncle Iori? The one that's an assistant night manager at that really huge supermarket?"
Mimi peered at Sora. "I didn't know he did that. Where's the phone number?"
"Palm Pilot, inside my backpack."
"But, Sora." Mimi looked puzzled. "What will I tell him?"
Sora thought fast. "Tell him I can't come to the phone right now. Tell him that it's part of a really elaborate practical joke I'm pulling on someone, and that I will owe him, big time. He loves practical jokes more than anyone else I know, besides Tai. And see if he can get someone to run it over."
Mimi listened. "Think this will work?"
"It's the best bet we have, isn't it?" Sora steeled her nerve to look directly back at Myotismon. "Blood is hard to come by in the real world," she said.
Myotismon laughed. "Not for me." Sora rolled her eyes. Oh, hell, not now!
"I'm on it." Mimi disappeared back into the kitchen.
"This may take some time," said Sora. She didn't want the entire plan to fall apart on a pointless detail like this. Stupid vampires.
Just then Kari reappeared. "Need a hand, Sora?"
"Yes!" The answer came out in a strained squeak. Sora winced at the sound, and strove to calm herself. She motioned Kari over. "Kari, where did you go?" Sora spoke in a tense whisper.
"Huh?" Kari blinked. "I went down to the convenience store on the corner. Mimi said we were out of chips. Didn't she tell you?"
"No," whispered Sora. Just like Mimi to forget something like that! "But never mind." She took a deep breath and spoke aloud. "Myotismon needs something to wear." Sora motioned to the sheets and blankets. "For the ceremony, of course."
Kari understood. "The ceremony," she repeated, nodding. She reached into the pile and extracted the comforter that had caught Sora's attention. "I kind of like this. But it's not really toga material."
"No," said Sora slowly. "Something more like a coronation robe." She could see it now, one corner draped across his chest and pinned, letting the rest flow behind him off the one shoulder.
Oh, great. Sora groaned to herself. It had finally happened. Mimi's fixation with clothes was starting to rub off on her.
"Great idea, Sora," said Kari. "Let me just get the safety pins."
"Now, is anyone interested in my opinion? By any chance?" Myotismon glared at both girls.
Sora looked at Kari. Kari peered up at Myotismon. "Well, what do you think about it, then?"
Myotismon looked at the comforter. He ran a finger over the jacquard weave of the fabric. One eyebrow went up.
"I think it really goes well with the blue of your tunic," offered Kari helpfully.
"Do you now?" Myotismon's response was dry as dust. Kari blushed. "Very well, then. It will suffice." He snapped his fingers. "You, Kari. Assist me by putting it on."
Kari was nettled by Myotismon's commands. "Myotismon, have you ever considered asking someone to do something for you?"
"No," replied Myotismon.
"Well, there's honesty for you," said Kari. No point in getting really annoyed. Myotismon's manners were actually better than Tai's. She grabbed the comforter and realized that she couldn't possibly reach his shoulder. "Mmm...Myotismon, could you possibly...bend down a little?"
"Oh, all right," snapped Myotismon. He pulled one corner of the coverlet down over his shoulder far enough for Kari to fasten it under his other arm.
Kari looked at the results. Absolutely ludicrous. "There, that should do it." Not nearly as ludicrous as Piedmon looked, though. Flame red with light avocado green? He almost had her sympathy.
A happy squeal came from the kitchen. "Oh, good news, Sora! Your uncle Iori found what we need, and he's sending someone over with it."
"Yeah, great." Sora indulged herself in a moment of relief. Now if only Myotismon would actually deign to drink the stuff.
She pushed the thought right out of her mind, preferring to deal with but one problem at a time, please. Now, on to stage two.
Piedmon did not reply. He had found the remote for the television, and frowned down at it, pushing random buttons. The screen sprang to life. Piedmon's eyes widened as he watched a man drone on about the importance of dental hygiene. "Why don't we have anything like this?" he mused aloud.
"Piedmon! Must you constantly behave like an ass?" Myotismon glared at his rival.
Piedmon did not bother to look up, but continued to fiddle with his new toy. "'Ass', is it, Myotismon? Has anyone bothered to tell you that Hallowe'en isn't for another three months?"
Myotismon's habitual snarl intensified. "Give me that," he ground out from between clenched teeth. "I don't know why I bother talking to you." He looked down at a bewildering array of tiny buttons, each bearing indecipherable symbols. Hazarding a guess, he pushed one. The television channel changed from a lecture on dental hygiene to a vigorous young couple vigorously coupling. Myotismon stared at them in amazement. Piedmon stared at them in keen interest.
The moaning was loud enough to attract Mimi's attention. She saw what was on the screen, and her face froze in shock and embarrassment. Without thinking, she grabbed the remote from Myotismon's hand, and turned the set off.
"Oh, my...goodness," gasped Mimi, face scarlet, eyes wide open. Grasping desperately for composure, she forced a candy-sweet smile that almost looked real. "We're almost ready. That reminds me. What would you two like to eat?"
"Blood," said Myotismon.
Mimi blinked, mind unmercifully blank yet again. All the etiquette in the world could not ever have prepared her for this situation. "Well...yes. But what else would you like?"
Myotismon stared down at her, the corner of his mouth twisted into a moue of disgust. "What else is there?"
Mimi gulped, and wished herself elsewhere, if only for a few minutes. "Pizza?"
"Pizza?" said Piedmon, who looked pleased. Myotismon gave both of them a black look.
"But I'm sure something else can be arranged," improvised Mimi, wondering what the local butcher shop could sell her.
Myotismon nodded, eyes still narrowed. He turned his back to both of them in a remarkable simulation of a human huff.
From the kitchen came Sora's voice. "Garbage pizza and deep-dish pepperoni okay?" Sora stuck her head out to look.
"Yes," answered Mimi, not daring to take her eyes off either Digimon. "That's fine. And some cheese bread, too."
"Okay." Sora disappeared back into the kitchen.
Piedmon grew instantly wary. "'Garbage' pizza? Just what is that supposed to be?" He stared down at Mimi.
Mimi could feel herself shrivel under the brunt of his gaze. Gathering what little nerve she had, she piped up. "Oh! That just means with everything on it," she hastily assured him.
Piedmon's eyebrows furrowed deeply, as he abruptly went from hostile to confused. "Oh. I see."
"No, you don't," countered Myotismon, in disgusted tones.
"Bite me, Myotismon," said Piedmon, giving him a gesture he had learned watching the Digidestined.
"In your dreams," said Myotismon.
"Well, now that that's decided, shall we don our ceremonial robes?" Mimi sighed mentally, and promised herself a new dress for her pains. She had earned it.
Piedmon looked thrilled.
"Yes," snapped Myotismon. "Let's get this over with."
Mimi made her way into the living room, the two Digimon in tow. She stopped at the pile of sheets, comforters, bedspreads and the odd curtain or two, mentally sorting them out. There had to be something that looked good on seven foot tall monsters, didn't there? Her mother spent enough time at white sales trying to find that perfect sheet set. Aha, red satin king sized sheets. Perfect. She had forgotten that St. Valentine's Day when her father had attempted to turn their home into a 'love nest', and snickered. Her mother's face froze when she saw the results, and wondered aloud why her husband wanted his family to live in a bordello. After that, her father never tried his hand at interior decorating again. Still, the sheets would come in handy. But what would the other one wear? Mimi bit her lip. Better still, who would wear this?
She was saved from that dilemma, as Piedmon grabbed the sheets, his eyes sparkling with glee. "Perfect," he said.
Myotismon's lips twisted into a moue of distaste. "With green trousers?"
"Sod off, Myotismon," replied Piedmon, holding a sheet against himself experimentally. "I like red."
Mimi watched the two snipe at each other, her mind wrestling with the problem of exactly what to do with the sheets. Sora stepped in at that point.
"Here," said Sora, grabbing the sheet out of Piedmon's hands. "Let me help you with that. She twisted, pulled, and wound the soft fabric deftly. Within minutes, it had become a serviceable toga.
Mimi's jaw dropped. She had watched the entire thing, and still couldn't fathom how Sora had done it. "How...?"
"The Discovery Channel," said Sora. "It was some show about fashion through the ages."
Mimi's eyebrows shot up. She might actually have to watch something educational sometime, if it had to do with clothes.
"And now for you," said Sora, looking Myotismon up and down, trying very hard to imagine something he could wear. "I'm thinking you may have to take off the cape -"
"Cloak," Myotismon corrected her icily.
"Er, cloak," Sora quickly amended. She stared at the pile of cloth, hoping for a brainstorm. "How do you feel about brocade?" Her eye fell upon a gold and black paisley comforter than seemed to have potential. Where was Mimi when you needed her?
From the kitchen, Sora could hear Mimi talking on the phone. "...no, sir, this isn't a prank. I would not be calling you if I didn't absolutely need it." A pause. "Why blood? Well, we have some very important visitors from a foreign country with strict dietary laws." True enough, she supposed.
There was another lengthy pause. "No, no, please don't hang up! I -" Silence. There was a plaintive sigh. Mimi stuck her head out to look at Sora. "This is going to take longer than I thought."
"Mimi, what are you doing?" Sora stared at Mimi.
"Getting something for Myotismon to eat," explained Mimi. "Right now, we don't have anything."
Sora sighed, too. "Doesn't do pizza. Right." Why were there never any vegan supervillains?
The tall digital vampire lord stared down at her. "That's right. I don't 'do' pizza." A wicked smile curved his lips upward, exposing both canines. "But I'm sure you'll do nicely."
Sora caught a glimpse of razor sharp white teeth pointed in her general direction, and desperately wanted him to be somewhere else tonight. Tonight was supposed to be fun. "Uh, Mimi, why don't you try calling my uncle Iori? The one that's an assistant night manager at that really huge supermarket?"
Mimi peered at Sora. "I didn't know he did that. Where's the phone number?"
"Palm Pilot, inside my backpack."
"But, Sora." Mimi looked puzzled. "What will I tell him?"
Sora thought fast. "Tell him I can't come to the phone right now. Tell him that it's part of a really elaborate practical joke I'm pulling on someone, and that I will owe him, big time. He loves practical jokes more than anyone else I know, besides Tai. And see if he can get someone to run it over."
Mimi listened. "Think this will work?"
"It's the best bet we have, isn't it?" Sora steeled her nerve to look directly back at Myotismon. "Blood is hard to come by in the real world," she said.
Myotismon laughed. "Not for me." Sora rolled her eyes. Oh, hell, not now!
"I'm on it." Mimi disappeared back into the kitchen.
"This may take some time," said Sora. She didn't want the entire plan to fall apart on a pointless detail like this. Stupid vampires.
Just then Kari reappeared. "Need a hand, Sora?"
"Yes!" The answer came out in a strained squeak. Sora winced at the sound, and strove to calm herself. She motioned Kari over. "Kari, where did you go?" Sora spoke in a tense whisper.
"Huh?" Kari blinked. "I went down to the convenience store on the corner. Mimi said we were out of chips. Didn't she tell you?"
"No," whispered Sora. Just like Mimi to forget something like that! "But never mind." She took a deep breath and spoke aloud. "Myotismon needs something to wear." Sora motioned to the sheets and blankets. "For the ceremony, of course."
Kari understood. "The ceremony," she repeated, nodding. She reached into the pile and extracted the comforter that had caught Sora's attention. "I kind of like this. But it's not really toga material."
"No," said Sora slowly. "Something more like a coronation robe." She could see it now, one corner draped across his chest and pinned, letting the rest flow behind him off the one shoulder.
Oh, great. Sora groaned to herself. It had finally happened. Mimi's fixation with clothes was starting to rub off on her.
"Great idea, Sora," said Kari. "Let me just get the safety pins."
"Now, is anyone interested in my opinion? By any chance?" Myotismon glared at both girls.
Sora looked at Kari. Kari peered up at Myotismon. "Well, what do you think about it, then?"
Myotismon looked at the comforter. He ran a finger over the jacquard weave of the fabric. One eyebrow went up.
"I think it really goes well with the blue of your tunic," offered Kari helpfully.
"Do you now?" Myotismon's response was dry as dust. Kari blushed. "Very well, then. It will suffice." He snapped his fingers. "You, Kari. Assist me by putting it on."
Kari was nettled by Myotismon's commands. "Myotismon, have you ever considered asking someone to do something for you?"
"No," replied Myotismon.
"Well, there's honesty for you," said Kari. No point in getting really annoyed. Myotismon's manners were actually better than Tai's. She grabbed the comforter and realized that she couldn't possibly reach his shoulder. "Mmm...Myotismon, could you possibly...bend down a little?"
"Oh, all right," snapped Myotismon. He pulled one corner of the coverlet down over his shoulder far enough for Kari to fasten it under his other arm.
Kari looked at the results. Absolutely ludicrous. "There, that should do it." Not nearly as ludicrous as Piedmon looked, though. Flame red with light avocado green? He almost had her sympathy.
A happy squeal came from the kitchen. "Oh, good news, Sora! Your uncle Iori found what we need, and he's sending someone over with it."
"Yeah, great." Sora indulged herself in a moment of relief. Now if only Myotismon would actually deign to drink the stuff.
She pushed the thought right out of her mind, preferring to deal with but one problem at a time, please. Now, on to stage two.
