[Milliways: Mel and Lilly's Living Room]

[slayer_fray]

There's been a lot going on with the tenants of suites 132 and 134, what with Slaying and grabbing and invalids and blossoming romances and relaunching businesses and security and bartending and things. A lot.

What there hasn't been, in someone's very important opinion, is enough Stampy-loving.

And when there's not enough Stampy loving, bad things happen.

Like sacred dedicated scythe-like weapons that certain miniphants won't let go off, no matter how much dangling-from-her-trunk it involves.

"No, really, Bignose, I hafta go to work."

Comments

[mnt_mike]

Mel's bedroom door opens, and a very bleary-eyed and bed-headed Mike leans out.

"ba...BumperTooche? Is everythin' a'right?"

[slayer_fray]

Mel spins round to face him, holding the shaft of the stake, with the blade pointed towards him.

And from the handle set into the blade dangles an obstinate little elephant.

"You mind if I take Stampy out Slaying today?"

[mnt_mike]

"Is this a trick question?"

Mike's not awake enough for trick questions....

[slayer_fray]

Mel wriggles the scythe.

Stampy squeals in discomfort as she swings, but she holds on admirably.

"She won't let go."

[mnt_mike]

"Madam Stamps-a-lot: The Vampire Slayer does have a certain ring to it."

Mike says with a sleepy chuckle as he emerges fully from the bedroom.

[slayer_fray]

Mel sighs, and stands there, her other hand on her hip as she glares at the elephant.

"When did she get so stubborn?"

[mnt_mike]

He shrugs and then pads his way towards the kitchen.

"Tuesday? I dunno, best I can figure is she's hitting her teen years and is being rebellious, or something equally psychological in something."

[slayer_fray]

Shake, shake.

Wobble, wobble.

"Thing is," says Mel, "it's only patrol, nothing I couldn't skip, but if I do, she's won."

[mnt_mike]

Mike perks up.

"Battle of wills, huh? This could get entertaining. Wait, lemme get some Honey Smacks. Don't. Move."

Mike bolts the rest of the way to the kitchen, returning to the living room a second or two later with a box of Honey Smacks.

"Okay, commence the battle of wills."

Amuse him!

[slayer_fray]

"You," Mel says firmly, when he doesn't help, "aren't getting sex for at least three days."

Beat.

"Well, you are, but it'll only be quite good."

[mnt_mike]

Mike swallows hard, for some reason his Honey Smacks have turned to sawdust.

"You mean, no extra-special-super-fun-circus-sex?"

[slayer_fray]

"Nope," Mel says, reaching forward to try and prise Stampy off her scythe.

"Missionary only."

[mnt_mike]

He's not quite sure if she's bluffing or not....

"Of the Fumbling in the Back of Dad's Car kind? Or of the Lay back and think of England kind?

[slayer_fray]

"It depends on what mood I'm in," Mel admits. "But fumbling will be limited."

[mnt_mike]

TOOOOOOTALLY BLUFFING!

Nerves reset to their resting potential.

"Ahh, right. I'll keep that in mind."

Mike pops a few more cereal bits into his mouth before half heartedly informing Stampy of just how much of a bad girl she is.

It's so no where near convincing.

[slayer_fray]

Stampy's encouraged by Daddy's lack-of-discouragement and kicks happily at Mel's hands. She's winning!

"Oh, you're so getting a pounding."

It's not quite obvious who she's talking to.

[mnt_mike]

He tries very hard not to laugh. So very very hard indeed.

"You don't, you know, by any chance need a hand, do you?"

[slayer_fray]

"Mike!"

Give the girl a hand already!

[mnt_mike]

Mike sniffs once, tilts his neck in such a way that the bones crack in a manly fashion, and gets to his feet.

He doesn't cut a very imposing figure, but there is a slight level of menace about him. Sadly it's mostly of the Dennis variety.

"Stampy. Stand down."

[slayer_fray]

Stampy looks at Mike out of the corner of her eye.

If she lets go, Auntie Mel leaves, then Daddy goes back to bed and Auntie Lilly's not around and Uncle Indy's with Aunt Moon.

And she's not going to Uncle Raph.

Snuffling, she tightens her grip on the scythe

[mnt_mike]

"Huh...normally that works. Oh wait, I've got it."

Mike again attempts to muster all of his limited supply of menace.

"Mel. Stand down."

[slayer_fray]

Mel eyes him.

[mnt_mike]

"Whaaaaaat. I had to try! I mean, it was either that or try and make her a scythe in her size, and it's too early for that level of arts and crafts."

Too early for Mike, he means.

[slayer_fray]

Mel glares at Mike, then at Stampy. Then she rather unceremoniously drops the scythe.

Only, she angles it so Stampy can make floor contact first.

"Fine, I'll just ask Bar for stakes."

[mnt_mike]

Now it's his turn to cringe. While he's well aware of the fact that she can take care of herself, he'd prefer she go on patrol with something more than just stakes. Something like a long range weapon of sorts. Something along the lines of her Scythe.

Clearly it's Mike's turn to wrestle with the mini-phant.

"Well...rrrr...in theory...leggo...sure...damnit..."

[slayer_fray]

See, now it's Mike wrestling, Mel can sit on the edge of the couch and watch.

"Cause actual demons are really rare, so it's not like I'll

need

to behead anything."

[mnt_mike]

But...ferthaluva...it's...LEGGO...it's more humane way of putting people down."

Damn Stampy really is good at this game. Automatically Mike blames Raph for this.

[slayer_fray]

"They turn to dust anyway," Mel points out.

[mnt_mike]

"Most things do when they die...you know, eventually."

He's down on the ground now, attempting what looks more like a pull tug than a true game of tug o' war.

[slayer_fray]

"Not as quick as lurks do," Mel says.

She stands, and crosses the room in a couple of strides, grabbing Stampy around the middle.