Marceline's P.O.V.
So, after that, I walked out after Gumball, hoping Bonnie hadn't wounded his fragile male ego too badly. "Hellooo... Bubba? You around?" I called, searching for him.
I walked through another doorway, into some kind of fancy sitting room. I flopped down on the couch near the door, yawning. 'Geez, how hard is it to find a pink warrior prince carrying a vault door?' I thought, closing my eyes.
"Who are you, and what do you think you're doing?" A high-pitched, snobby, British-sounding, regal voice snapped at me.
I opened my eyes to see some chubby, prissy, snooty, prim woman standing in front of my face. She was swathed in lace and silk, the elaborate skirt of her gown pushing a good forty centimeters out from her waist. "My name's Marceline. I'm taking a short break from looking for one of my pals, Prince Gumball?"
Her eyes narrowed. "And why, pray tell, would you be looking for Jerricho?"
"Why do you wanna know?" I retorted. "Who are you, his mother or something?"
"As a matter of fact, you rude little girl, I am."
I blinked. Okay, that I had not been expecting. "Well, have you seen him?" I asked, trying to lean towards something more polite.
"Why are you looking for him?"
"To see if he's okay," I replied, coldly, but still polite.
She just glared, her lip curling up in obvious distaste.
We gave each other dirty looks for a few seconds before I got up sharply, fluttering my wings a little as I walked away, my tail swaying behind my, silently fuming.