"Thank you so much for providing me with housing, Fletcher. I am truly appreciative. Without your kind help, I'd probably either have perished or turned to prostitution." Clarabelle smiles, and the expression seems almost genuine.
"Uh… You're welcome, I guess."
"And I'm really sorry for all the horrible accidents I've caused, the messes I've made… It was, for the most part, unintentional." Her grin borders on the maniacal, for a moment, but it remains, to a certain extent, winningly contrite.
"Thank you… I suppose."
"And I didn't entirely mean it when I made fun of your half-burnt hair, or how vain you are, or how bad a cook you would make…"
"Okay."
"Oh, and your relationship with your affianced skeleton. Totally didn't mean to wreck that."
"…"
"I know how difficult it must be to believe that, but it's sort of true."
"Well, I suppose I did, kind of, but I didn't really mean to cause you so much anguish."
"… Right."
"Well, maybe I kind of did. 'Kay-thanks-bye." Still grinning widely, Clarabelle begins to skip away, leaving behind her a trail of still-smoldering ruins that had, up until very recently, been habitable houses, and one extremely dazed-looking Fletcher Renn.
A/N: Clarabelle: patron saint of ruining the lives of one's benefactors...
Hey, at least she didn't murder this one.
~Mademise Morte, December 26