A short while after The Very Grim Wrath Incident (as Uncle Jake called it) the family was getting ready for another big event. They were preparing for Veronica's mortal friend's wedding. Everything had to be perfect. And because she wanted the wedding to have fancy decorations and a lot of guests, the Grimms had to work on training the Everafters to act human. Unfortunately, Chicken Little couldn't tell the difference between a knife and a fork.
"They're both used for stabbing; why does it matter how you use them?" he whined.
Granny very patiently told him there wasn't going to be stabbing at the wedding, but proper manners on how to eat food without a food fight. After she'd said that statement, Chicken Little had stormed off. "There goes one less wedding invitation," she sighed.
Everyone argued over wedding decorations, the cake, and the music for weeks. Puck argued too, but not over the wedding, for something he actually cared about.
"They're worried over some stupid event that could end miserably!" he complained. "They should be worrying about the fact that I have to sleep on the couch! When are they going to fix my room?"
"When this is all over," Sabrina grouched. "I hate weddings."
"Me too."
They looked at each for a moment then turned away.
A month later, everything was ready. Now everyone was trying on their formal attire.
"Please!" Daphne begged.
"No!"
"PLEASE!"
"Never."
"Fine," Daphne said. "I'll take back the wig then!"
"Ugh! Fine, I'll wear the stupid heels!"
Daphne was pleased by what she had accomplished. She helped her sister try on the crystal high heels.
Two days before the wedding, Puck had enough. Were they really going to make him wear a tuxedo and brush his hair when he stilldidn't sleep in his own bed? Well, technically trampoline, but who cares. When everyone went to bed that night, he decided to seek help from the one person who couldn't possibly care about what was going on. He threw on his hoodie and disappeared into the night.
Shuddering as he looked at the skulls decorated on the cement sidewalk, Puck hurried up the steps and pounded on the door.
It slowly creaked open. An old hag stood in the doorway with bloodshot eyes.
"Ba-Baba Yaga!" Puck stuttered. "What a pleasure to see you again."
Baba Yaga huffed. "What could you possibly want from me at this time?"
He shoved past her and stepped into the house. "I want you to rebuild my room, that's what! Some kind of spell from your antique book or something!" He reached over for a book that was sitting on the cluttered counter, but a wilting flower snapped at him. Puck withdrew his hand. "Grimm was mad that I shaved her head, so she got back at me by practically burning down my whole room! I've had to sleep on the couch for two months!"
Baba Yaga cackled. "You shaved off her hair?" she howled. "I'm very impressed!"
Puck couldn't help but grin.
"Very well," she said, staring at him with new respect. "But keep in mind; magic has a price."
"What do I have to do?" asked Puck nervously.
"Well…" Baba Yaga glanced over at the glowing TV screen. "You could watch soap opera with me."
"What?" Puck cried. "I'm not watching that junk!"
Baba Yaga's eyes flashed dangerously.
"Um, because I-um…" Puck shifted from one foot to another.
"Have you even watched soap opera before?"
"No. My mother said I should watch it because it would help me understand things better when I'm a king, but I didn't listen to her."
"We already know just how royal you are," she muttered. "Well, no soap opera, no magic. That's that."
"I'll watch one episode. Then I'm out of here."
"Good. Then I'll come by tomorrow and fix your room." She held out her wrinkly hand with dirty sharp nails. "Deal?"
Puck quickly shook it and let go. "Deal."
Baba Yaga went back to the couch and put in the tape. Then she leaned back and put her feet on the table.
Puck sat on the chair across from the couch and sank back.
The soap opera they were watching was called The Restless Years. Puck hated to admit it, but he actually liked watching it. The series made use of dramatic storylines involving murders, kidnapping, blackmail, and mentioned things about unemployment, romance, money-making schemes, and parental problems. It was his kind of show. When it ended, Baba Yaga stood up. "You can leave now," she said. "Tomorrow I'll come over to your grandmother's house."
"Oh, um, okay," Puck said, standing up.
"Unless you want to stay?"
"Are you that lonely that you need me to stay?" he snickered. "If you insist." He sat back down.
Baba Yaga chuckled, and together, they proceeded to watch a whole season of The Restless Years.