Well, folks, I gots good news, and I gots bad news.

First the good news: I have updated! Whoot!

Now, the bad news: It's really short. This is not a good excuse for any persons (they know who they are) to write a short seond chapter. I've been doind a lot of longish chapters lately, and dammit, I'm tired. If you want to whine about it, go somewhere else! Remember the Golden Rule:

No sniveling.

And now, the disappointing and vaguely scary news: This chapter contains fanservice. (I have highlighted it to make it easier to find.)

Yes, ladies, gentlemen, and...otherwise, I have gotten a review declaring that Kesy in not in love with Jack, but is rather in love with...(guck...do you know how badly this is screwing up my artistic vision?) Wilfred, the pom-pom. This, ladies, gentlemen, and otherwise, is called bestiality, and I will not stand by it!

Then I thought, "what the heck; let the baby have his bottle." Thus, the fanservice.

And just to make it clear as day and discourage anybody who thinks "Wow, cool pairing; do another, Semine!": KESY IS IN LOVE WITH JACK AND WILFRED IS HER PET. SHE LOVES WILFRED AS ONE LOVES AN IGUANA: FRIEND AND FAMILY LOVE, BECAUSE HUMAN-IGUANA SEX IS VERY SCARY. KESY DOES NOT FEEL FOR WILFRED AS SHE DOES FOR JACK, AND I WILL PERSONALLY DOPE-SLAP ANYBODY WHO SAYS OTHERWISE. CAPESH?

I get a little worked up over that. There will be no more fanservice. At least, not without me fighting tooth and nail to avoid it, or if Kali pisses me off, in which case: hell, she deserves it! All of which are possible; just don't hold your breath.

So, enjoy the uber-short chappie!

Roll it, Louie!

Kesy ran her palms down the wooden shutters outside of her house, wondering for the eightieth time if there was anyway to reject the overpowering urge that was taking over her body. She gently closed the shutters, and turned back around, walking inside.

She then closed all of the drapes in the house, locked all of the doors, and placed a "Closed" sign in one of her windows. Then, Kesy pulled on an apron, rolled up her sleeves, and went to work.

She reasoned that it would take an hour and a half to make, forty minutes to bake, and ten minutes to cool. Her inner elfish instincts puzzled it out, and came up with a satisfying conclusion.

The Terror Scouts knocked on the dark wooden door. They got no response, so they rang the doorbell. Suddenly, a bent telescopic eye popped from the door and swiveled madly before settling on the two children. They didn't so much as blink in terror. Every third eye hole in the doors on this street did that.

"What do you want?" an unsteady, high-pitched voice requested cruelly.

"Greetings! We are representatives from the Terror Scouts," said a small blue bat with huge wings yipped. "Would you like to purchase a calendar?"

"No. Leave me," the voice growled, the telescopic eye snapping back into place in the door.

The bat turned to the mummy that stood beside him. "Great! Mark that one down! We'll get that Alienation Badge for sure!"

'That was close.'

Kesy leaned against her front door, reluctantly allowing the fragrance coming from her kitchen to fold around her. Her arms ached and there was nothing the witch wanted more than to curl up on her sofa.

'It's horrifying,' a desperate, unsure voice in her head whispered. 'You know it is. Just…relax.' Kesy deeply inhaled the scent, a smile lazily curving her lips. She wiped it off and scowled, kicking at the floor.

Wilfred yipped on the mantel. Planting a quick kiss on the small pink pom-pom, Kesy returned to the kitchen.

She peered into the oven and gazed at her creations. They would fetch her a pretty penny on looks alone.

Taking another huge breath of the aroma coming from the oven, Kesy sighed.

"That's a damn fine fruitcake."

Well there you go. Fruitcake is teh ebil. (Yes, I spelled all of that right. Go cry in a bowl of meat if you don't like it.)

Review please!