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[Laufey]

"You wanted to wash it." Dekaras tried to keep his voice calm and even, but it was getting to be a challenge.

"Yes," Sendai said, nodding vigorously. "And clearly it was needed. I mean, that mask had lots of nasty drool stains on the inside, and the strait-jacket - PHEW!" She noticed the blank stares the rest of her companions were giving her. "Er...did I do something wrong?"

"Given," Dekaras said, "that the strait-jacket was meant to secure a homicidal, sadistic elf, who also just so happens to be a very powerful mage and cleric, yes, your actions leave something to be desired."

Zaerini sighed. "Oh crap..." she said. "It's going to be as bad as the last time she got loose, won't it? When she got into that recording studio and got herself a record contract by torturing the manager with a pair of tweezers?"

"Well, at least she didn't manage to torture *us* that time," the assassin said.

"Sure she did! That record was *awful*! I've got sensitive ears when it comes to music, you know that. And then she came around and played it outside the bedroom at 4am..."

Laska shrugged. "Ah, don't worry, you guys," she said. "She may be an elf, but she's just *one* elf, and there are *lots* of us. If she tries anything, I'll kick her skinny ass from here to the moon, making a new crater or two." She grinned. "Hey, I know! I'll fix us something to eat, that'll cheer you up!" She raced off towards the kitchen, and some loud clanging and clattering followed. At one point there was a slamming noise, and then a howl.

"My toooooe!" Laska screamed. "My bloody toe! TAKE THAT, YOU DIRTY, ROTTEN..." Then her voice degenerated into a steady stream of elven swear words.

"Ooops..." Zaerini said, wincing a little. "I think we forgot to warn her about that dodgy kitchen drawer that comes off if you're not careful."

There was more cursing, and sounds of wood splintering.

"I think," Dekaras suggested, "that by now there is probably more than one broken kitchen drawer. Possibly a cabinet door or two as well." Briefly, he pondered whether he should try to put a stop to Laska's rampage, but eventually decided against it. *Perhaps it will help her get some of that excess energy out of her system. And she *is* a capable cook after all, everybody says so.*

At that point, his thoughts were brutally interrupted by the sound of a large explosion, coming from the kitchen.

***

Meanwhile, a blonde elf slunk along the street, now and then giggling to herself. "They thought they could keep me locked up, did they?" she whispered, rubbing her hands. "How wrong they were...and now, they will *suffer*! All of them, every single one. And especially *her*!"

Where to start, where to start...she would need to prepare herself properly. And then, glorious PAIN!

"Hey, lady!" A concerned voice called out from behind Aerie, and the Avariel turned around to see a police patrol car, with the window rolled down. The uniformed cop behind the wheel nodded at her. "Are you all right, ma'am? Can I help you? Only, I noticed you were walking about barefoot, and muttering to yourself. Maybe there's somewhere nice and warm I can drop you off, what do you say? The hospital, maybe?"

Aerie took a closer look at him. The uniform wouldn't fit her, of course - but there *was* the gun. Oh, and the handcuffs. "Why, yes, officer," she smiled as she sauntered up to the car. "I believe you *can* help me, actually...you can help me a *lot*."

---

"Well, despite the explosion in the kitchen, dear lady, I must almost reluctantly admit that the breakfast was excellent," Dekaras admitted.

"HAH!" Laska grinned. "I'm more than just brawn. I'm also brains!"

Aribeth coughed for a moment, a motion echoed by Vierna. "Yes," she spoke. "Very smart. Smart enough not to know you couldn't put a can inside the microwave."

"Well, it's HER fault. If only she'd have gotten a bigger stove," Laska said, "I refuse to take the blame for this! That thing looked like it would fit at least six cans! And why did she buy cans in the first place. If she'd had bought fresh stuff, there'd be no problem. I can't work like this, you know? Sheesh, microwaves. These humans are such lazy bums..."

"I do suggest you take it up with her yourself later," Dekaras showed a hint of a sadistic grin for a nanosecond. "Extensively and explicitly."

"Will do... But right now, I think it's time for us elves to get out of the house for a bit," Laska said. "We don't want to get stuffy."

"Why not?!" Aribeth said from behind the computer. "I've got plenty of stuff to do," she added, diverting her attention to the screen once again. "Aaaahhh, www.sexy-sheepzzz here I come!"

"Keep your perversions curbed, Aribeth," Phaere said. "Those sheep are crap anyway. We are trying to decide what we're going to do today."

"We could clean her apartment!" Sendai piped up, but was silenced by four angry elves staring her down. "Just a suggestion."

"I know, I know!" Laska grinned. "We could seek out a topless bar, get some eyefulls and then get completely pissed."

"No, no, no, no!" Vierna said. "Let's go to the icecream salon!"

"No!" Phaere protested, and had exchanged her regular clothes for a classy business-suit. "We could take an extensive trip to the stock exchange. I can explain to you how my soybean-franchises are doing."

"How about we go to the Homemaker's Convention!" Sendai suggested. "There's bound to be some great new products presented there!"

"I've got a better idea!" Rini popped up from the front door after collecting the mail. In it was a flyer that advertised a local carnival that had just opened today. "I think we've found our place to go."

"Excellent," Dekaras said, thanking just about any god that would listen for the opportunity to finally regain some peace and quiet... and to finally try out his new sniper-rifle on a certain blonde elf later. "You run along now... Have fun. Don't come back for a while..."

---

Dekaras sighed. He and four elves were now sitting in the waiting room of the local hospital. Many people were bustling about, and being near so many people certainly irked him.

"So," Dekaras sighed, trying to ignore the bustle. "Let's go over this again."

"Well," Laska said, "I was having so much fun at the bumper-carts, until this COMPLETE BASTARD rams into me from behind."

"And that was enough reason for you," Dekaras said, "so slam into that poor boy continuously until you rammed the carts off the track. Then, you proceeded to hound him off the carnival's lot, slamming your bumper-cart into his until the both of you were actually on the ramp leading onto the freeway?"

"Exactly!" Laska narrowed her eyes. "He had to pay!"

"He was twelve years old, apparently," Dekaras replied. "And, correct me if I'm wrong, but is it not so that the very object of the 'bumper-carts' is hitting the other contestants on the lot? Isn't it meant for all to have fun, and not to ram your opponent all the way to the freeway?"

"I maintain his bastard-status," Laska huffed. "I would have caught him too if I hadn't ran off the road," she said, cradling her sprained wrist.

"And you," Dekaras pointed at Aribeth. "When the magician stops his act, how is that construed in your mind as an invitation to get up on stage and do some tricks of your own?"

"Look, I was alright up till the sword-swallowing," Aribeth defended.

"The object of sword-swallowing is to actually swallow the sword yourself," Dekaras rubbed his temples, in an attempt to dispel his headache... and attempt that failed miserable, "not skewer some innocent bystander in the audience!"

"He was gagging for it!" Aribeth shouted. "He had his mouth wide open!"

"I'm not even going to discuss that with you. You're lucky the magician was a charlatan and only used rubber swords," Dekaras sighed. "And, you," he pointed at Sendai. "Care to explain how the ferris-wheel got unhinged and rolled through the entire mainstreet?"

"Well," Sendai started, "the ground was a little dirty, so I started mixing some cleaning fluids. I think I might have misread one of the labels. The fumes sorta dissolved the oil on the giant bolt keeping the wheel in place."

Phaere didn't seem to care about this discussion, and was engrossed with getting her laptop to work with the hospital's hotspot to keep an eye on her ever expanding soybean empire.

"Now, as a final question," Dekaras said. "How did this string of events lead to my creator now sowing poor Vierna's ear back on in that room over there?"

"Well," Laska gulped. "You know how these bumper-carts have these tall little antennae? I, um, zoomed a little close past Vierna while chasing that wanker and, um..."

"Spare me the details," Dekaras sighed. "That's another one of my free days ruined, not to mention the carnival. Poppy was so looking forward to it. And you've certainly made a right mess out of the entire town this time. The road is ruined, the town-hall now has a ferris-wheel embedded in the foyer and the council had banned street-performance."

Laska leaned back while the rest fell into silence, waiting for the word when Vierna would be able to go home. Then, the physician who treated her suddenly passed by. He saw her, then started to pick up the walking pace. Sadly, it was to no avail.

Laska grinned. "Hiya, doctor Twa..."

"LOOK!" the doctor turned around to yell at Laska. "For the last time, you miserable pixie, my name is pronounced THWAITE!! Got that, you lame-brain?! THWAITE!! THWAITE!! THWAITE!!"

"If you say so," Laska grinned, remembering having loads of fun watching his face whenever she mispronounced his name. And then not being able to resist the urge to say his mispronounced name lots.