"Then, like, somebun will have to get him out."
Clawson looked at Wynn in the red light of the transport's command room.
Outside, the black helicopter's blades beat almost silently as they flew
over Lake Ontario. "No devilbunny has entered Doomwarren and returned."
"Well, like, there's a first..."
"Natch. Chick'll be the first..." the does spoke at once.
"Maybe not. The original Wyrmstock wasn't in Doomwarren -- it was on a
hill in the marsh, halfway to the MacGregor farm and outside their defense
sphere. I think the stage is still set up. Hopefully they've got him there."
"Coo. Cabbage easy."
"Punkbunny? Like, you're not going down there!"
Wearing dark glasses even in the war room, PB showed no reaction.
"Ain't got nobunny else, princess."
"Oh, and, like, what about me? <pout>"
"Wynn...by Battallion standards, this is a suicide mission. We're
talking about a insane family of cannibals."
"Hey, like, sounds like an average day of autograph signing. <airypawwave>
Anyway, her leg's broken -- she can't sneak into a way dangerous place and
rescue somebun!"
"Princess...", PB sighed, pulling down her shades. Her eyes glowed red
in the room lights as she tried to stare Wynn down. "Chick don't light up
cuteness imagers. The bod's half wyrm already. Punker's gotta be the
one."
"But, like, I know a whole way lot about disguises and stuff! And they
know you, remember? You'd be the *first* one they'd expect!"
Punkbunny flipped her shades onto the floor at Wynn's feet. "Fine. Bag
him home, princess."
Surprised, Wynn pawed at the glasses. "Wow. Just like that?"
"Figure got something to prove," Punkbunny sighed. "Chick ain't gonna
argue with that."
"Cool!" Wynn bounced, and hopped out of the room.
"I don't approve of this," Clawson interrupted.
"Ever have a buckfriend, stud?"
Wrinkling his nose, the Major growled. "No."
"Well, like, then, you wouldn't understand," Wynn giggled, hopping back in,
dragging a large bag of cosmetics behind her. "Way cool. So when do we
land?" She began unpacking, eyeing each item speculatively.
"Princess, ain't the time to pretty yourself up..."
"Like, here." Wynn pawed a bottle to her, then thrust her face into
Punkbunny's, eyes wide. "Spray it in."
Punkbunny looked at it dubviously. "'Claw-ease Clarifying solution'.
Princess, are you sure..."
"Just spray it!" Shrugging, Punkbunny spritzed the stuff into Wynn's eyes.
Wynn squealed and jerked away, then forced herself back. "Again!" she choked.
Fascinated, Punkbunny complied.
"Man, like, they sure didn't do enough animal testing on this stuff, did
they?" Wynn gasped, eyes streaming. "So, like, how's it doing?" She stared
into Punkbunny's face; the whites of her eyes had turned a dull, angry red.
"Just spades, Princess," Punkbunny replied, starting to catch on.
"Cool. OK, that should do for awhile, anyway. Like here." She tossed a
loopha sponge at the other doe. "Like, slice it into struts. Lop ears..."
she continued, spraying a frothy mousse all over herself and shaping her
fluff into spikes, "...are just so not Fourier. Like, good thing I endorsed
those artificial claws, you know? Like, they'll be great for fake fangs.
I mean, like, I'll probably drool and everthing, but for a wyrmbunny that's
a plus. <nosewrinkle> And, like..." she rolled a few bottles of claw
polish Punkbunny's way, "do you think "Moonlight Memories" or "Busily Bronze"
to give my fluff that metallic glint?"
Clawson stared, but Punkbunny just snorted. "Natch. Ain't no Bunarazzi
when you need 'em," she muttered.
--
Wynn and Punk Bunny!!