Woeisme stared at Bela; stared at her with the burning angst of a million suns and a couple smaller dwarf-suns. Bela stood there smiling like a nincompoop who was enthralled by something shiny, like ball of aluminum foil or a pile of glitter. Worst of all, everyone had the exact same stupid look on their faces. The exact same stupid way they looked at her because she was an awesome 16-year-old 4-year-old.
“How could I have been so stupid?” Vlad asked himself, “Clearly, Bela should have had the One Onion Ring from the start.”
“Bela, have I ever told you how much I adore you for no good reason?” Fig asked, as Woeisme continuously kicked him in the shin with no reaction whatsoever.
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