This one went through a lot of rewrites. Also it's really hard to write Fawful's patterns of speech.
Stardust Fields, Midnight
"Eye-ha-ha-ha!... Does that one tickle your fancy?"
"...Nay... you sound like Eyore."
"...You're right. Uh..." Cackletta paused. "EEH-Hee-Hee!" She turned to Fawful.
"...Sire, did you have something spicy?" asked Fawful.
"...AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-" Cackletta broke into coughing, her geriatric body unable to handle such a long scream.
"Maybe evil laughs just aren't your thing."
"Nonsense," Cackletta scoffed. "Give. Me. TIME."
The two continued on in the purple skies of Stardust Fields like that for a bit. Cackletta in her purple hovercraft and Fawful trailing behind in a self-made headgear with rocket thrusters, and a glass helmet concealing Peach's voice. In case y'all forgot.
"MISS CACKLETTA!" a shrill voice pierced the air. "I HATH ARRIVED!"
Cackletta winced and bent over slightly, covering her ears. Fawful landed next to her. "Crickey. Tone it down a bit, why dontcha?"
"Oh dearie. I do apologize," Fawful whispered, so low you couldn't hear him.
"Not that damn low, ya blitherin' imbecile," grumbled Cackletta.
"...Um, how about now? Do I tickle your chimes of hearing?" Fawful said in a more normal tone of voice.
"Yes, about there is fine. Don't forget again," she said, already knowing her words were in vain. She looked closer at her subordinate and noticed all the bruises on him. "It didn't go so dandy, did it?"
"My mustard has been wiped." Fawful's eyes drooped. "The plumbers flushed my mustard down the toilet. I'm so sorry sire, truly. I need to respice my condiments, I-"
Need to learn to zip it every once in a while, Cackletta though as she tuned out the rest of his words and opened the door to the motel. She looked inside the building, scanned the left and right of the reception room. It seemed nobody was up other than the guy at the table.
She turned to Fawful, who was still droning on. She sighed, and roughly poked him with her right index finger. Fawful winced and snapped himself to attention.
"We're clear. Follow behind me, and in the name of our Lord and Savior (authors note: insert god later), if the receptionist catches us, let me do the talking."
Fawful nodded. "Fawful's lips of talking hath sealed."
"That's the best damn news I've heard today," said Cackletta, a bit too low for Fawful to hear. "Hide everything that, makes us suspicious in the luggage."
Fawful nodded and took out his mechanical suitcase. He took off his helmet with Peach's voice and shoved it in his suitcase, and followed her with a chortle in every step.
Cackletta stepped across the lobby, fortunately alone other than the bored Beanish receptionist scrolling through his phone. She looked at him, and he didn't seem to notice her.
Fine by her. She motioned to Fawful with a quick "Come On" hand gesture. Fawful floated forwards, his helmet starting to make a "whirring" noise. Cackletta glared at him and motioned down. Fawful took the hint and landed on the floor.
"Sorry sire," he whispered, a little loudly.
Cackletta scrunched up and looked at the receptionist, who was now looking up from his phone.
"Oh, it's the old, uh, hag thing," he said.
Cackletta grimaced. "That's no way to talk to your elders," she grumbled. "Stupid kid."
"Okay, so I think I'm supposed to ask why you're here so late or something," he muttered, "or I'll, y'know get fired. And that would suck."
"Of course, of course," said Cackletta with nary a smile.
Fawful stood behind her, opening his mouth. Cackletta shot a quick glance behind her and Fawful, seeing her glare, just kept his mouth limp, turning it upside down to a frown.
"What can I say," said Cackletta. "It's been a long night of... mmm... sightseeing. Uh, we've seen... sights," she finished, accompanied with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Oh wow," he said, back on his phone.
"Yeah," said Cackletta. "You should try it sometime, instead of... whatever you imbeciles do on those damn iPads of yours."
"This is a iPhone, grandma, and I'm making AI art."
Fawful hissed. "No, mister, AI does not art."
"Get with the times man."
"Mmm, iPhone, iPad, it's all the same bullshit to me," she grumbled. "Now if you excuse us, we've got important stuff to attend to."
"Indeed we do!" said Fawful. He took out his suitcase while Cackletta turned back at him wide-eyed. She mouthed What are you doing? but Fawful didn't notice. The Bean dude sure did tho.
"Yoo..." he chuckled. "What's in that bag? Did you rob a bank or something?"
Fawful chuckled. "Sorta."
Cackletta felt her stomach curl inwards. "Yeah, it sort of FEELS like we robbed a bank because we have SO much stuff to carry, because we're respectable citizens that would never steal because we aren't degenerates, are we not?" she said, turning her head back at Fawful, leaning in til her eyes were staring down his soul. Like magic, Fawful said nothing else.
"We've had such a long day," Cackletta added, turning back to the Beanish receptionist. "Would you mind if we just hurried on up? I fear if we wait any longer, I may collapse right here."
The receptionist put a hand on his head and stared at the ground. "Uh..." he mumbled. "I'm... I don't-I think I need to check the rulebook."
"I think it says, "Your customers might smite you if you inconvenience them too much"," said Cackletta, lifting up her right finger and sparking it with electricity.
"Oh... yeah, I do remember something like that," he said. "Yeah, sure, go on ahead, I need to make more AI art. Just don't bother me anymore."
"Likewise," said Cackletta. She and Fawful walked towards the elevator, with Fawful turning to the receptionist and making sure to hiss at him. The receptionist didn't notice.
As the elevator took them up, accompanied with Strikers charge music, Cackletta let out a slow breath.
"Fawful," she whispered, "we need to be more careful. This mission can't afford another slip-up, especially not over something as ridiculous as—"
"Fawful was of the silence! And our stealth was of the success! The receptionist hath blindness of the grand variety!"
Indeed. Somehow, they had made it past the receptionist, suspicious bag and all. For now.
"Just keep it that way," Cackletta muttered, as the elevator reached their floor. "Let's get to our room before anything else goes wrong."
The two stepped out and walked to their room.
Cackletta pushed open the door, the hinges creaking. Fawful came close behind, dragging the suitcase with all the grace of a bull.
"I hope she's not up," grumbled Cackletta, pushing open the door, and being greeted with the sight of her pink-dreadlock wearing Toad roomate, who was unfortunately very much up. And by the looks of her half-lidded state, had been that way for days. Her long, pink dreadlocks spilled out of the corner
"Leanco", she said. "That's my name, don't wear it out."