Submit your petpet to the Petpet
Lughie dragged a reluctant Griselda up to the stage and hoisted her very dead weight onto it, giving his petpet a withering glare that might have caused a less-frightening petpet to spontaneously combust. She leaped down again, voicing a cry that sounded something like nails on a chalkboard and began frantically attacking his beak.
"We are NOT having this argument again," he warned her in a gravelly voice, tossing her up again. "I don't care if you're having a bad hair day. It's no worse than it usually is."
Griselda bit his nose, returning his glare with red eyes that had absolutely nothing to do with crying. She voiced another fingernails on a chalkboard cry and wiggled her ornately striped shoes.
Lughie sighed, "Fine. I will introduce you, and THEN you will tap dance. You've certainly practiced enough with the Turmaculus."
A battle of the wills ensued, the victor being the larger, and therefore more persuasive, creature.
The neurotically-groomed Mutant Lenny preened for a moment, scooped a reluctant Griselda into his wings, and began.
"Griselda and I have been together since I was barely three weeks old. She's a Gremble, which makes her a Spooky Petpet, but frankly, she'd be frightening even without the title. She's more ornery than I am and her favorite thing to do is to chomp on my beak. Her hair is even scarier than MY mother's, and that's saying something. I've never seen her in anything resembling a good mood. I found her terrorizing a particularly evil group of Fuzzles in a shop in the Haunted Woods Marketplace. They were positively quaking in fear that she would either eat them, tickle them, or send them somewhere beyond the stars. So, I rescued her, and them, in a sense, from the disastrously decorated shop and its' eternally obnoxious MIDI. She made my life fairly miserable for a time--still does as a matter of fact-- she is a GIRL, after all..."
Griselda looked distinctly disgruntled, but was ignored.
"But I wouldn't trade her for all the Kadoaties, Faelies, or Snowickles in the world. She's the friend of my soul. I don't think I could survive a day without her piping snarky comments in my ear or watching her tap dance for the Turmaculus. She really is quite good at it, much to my surprise. Natural rhythm, she's got! I envy her ability to be mean. If I acted in such a manner, my mother would be outraged. But my little Griselda deserves every accolade in existence for being such a constant source of love, snarkiness, and light in my life."
With that, Lughie gently set Griselda onto the highly polished wood on the stage. She stared up at him, shell-shocked.
A classic Jazzmosis song piped through two large speakers on either side of the stage, and Griselda the Gremble proceeded
to give the performance of a lifetime while Lughie watched, beaming like the proud papa he was.
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