Eyes To See…Or Not, As The Case May Be

'Beauty is in the eye of the beholder – and I'm holding yours.'

"Croquet!" Pegasus shouted.

He heard the sound of fast-paced walking, and then a tall dark-haired man entered the room. "Yes, Master Pegasus?" his obsequious minion asked.

"Who allowed this…piece of filth…past my security and into the castle?" Pegasus demanded, waving the note that had accompanied the innocuous paper-wrapped parcel containing…the shirt.

The shirt which had brought up a very painful – both mentally and physically – fact of his existence, and which he now wanted to find the sender of.

So he could kill him, slowly and painfully.

Or maybe just dress him up in a Funny Bunny costume so he could have someone to…play…with.

"Well?" Pegasus demanded imperiously when Croquet remained ominously silent.

"I…ah, it was me, Master Pegasus," Croquet said, sweat starting to bead up on his forehead.

Pegasus hissed a sigh. "Find out who sent this…this… Just found out who sent it!" he commanded, and smiled ferally as he watched Croquet nod and scuttle away.

"It is so hard to find good help these days," he moaned, dropping back down into his chair and picking up his glass of wine. Oh, yes, Croquet was eager to please – too eager, sometimes – but he wasn't all that smart, and he had no backbone.

Pausing in mid-sip, he smiled. Croquet's subservience had given him an idea. A fiendishly clever idea of how he could exact his revenge.

He would kill the sender; Croquet could dress up in the Funny Bunny costume. The idiot would probably enjoy it…and so would he.