Cutie pies

 
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Cutie pies
October 22 2003 at 6:29 PM
Harbinger of Death 

The list was getting shorter and the mansion getting fuller. The Harbinger of Death looked down at his clipboard and checked off a few more names. He glanced up at Pride, who had a sneer on her face she did not bother to hide. “Your organizational system is pitifully outdated,” she said with contempt. “You really should go digital.”

“Talk to the accounting office,” HoD said. “I’ve put in a purchase order request three times for a new computer or a laptop. They claim they’re underfunded.” He snorted. “But I see how Santa always gets a shiny new sleigh every three years. It’s such a sham.” He shook his head. “Anyway, here’s your last hit.”

“Consider it done.”

Meanwhile…

“Look at these pictures of my darling grandbaby!” Eeyoraus gushed, showing them around.

“Oh, how cute!” Calico agreed. “Here, I’ve got some new pictures too.”

“Too cute!” Calee cooed. “Here’s my sweetie, see?” They all oohed and aahed over the three baby boys, giving equal adoration until Pride came into their midst. Then the room grew cold.

“You know,” Calico said to Eeyoraus, “yours doesn’t have the shiny hair like mine.”

“Yeah? Well, mine has the cutest eyes!” she fumed.

“I don’t think so,” laughed Calee. “Mine is clearly the most beautiful child all around.”

“Mine is the smartest!”

“Yours is dumb as a fencepost!”

“Hah! Both of yours are morons compared to my little genius. And he’s musically minded, too!”

“So? Mine is already recognizing colors and shapes!”

The arguments became more heated, more personal, more injurious and deprecating. Pride fed on it and grew in intensity and tangibility. Oddly enough, just as it was climbing to a fever pitch, PtheticLosr bounded in.

“Ha ha! See how I am still here, alive and breathing! It’s because I’m not a student. It’s because I’ve deposited clones all over the city to throw him off. It’s because I am invincible! I am immuuuune!” He bounced around the room in glee. All was silent and all eyes were on him.

“You’re so…so cocky,” said Pride, staring at him in disgust. “It’s nauseating. It’s abhorrent. It’s beautiful!” She cackled and waved her hands in the air. They were lifted up, up, up from the ground, out the window, high above the trees. “The bigger they are, the harder they fall!” she shrieked, and they were plummeted to the ground at super speed, smacking into the ground with horrible force, their broken bodies a wretched testament to the ills of pride. Her peacock blue bottle carried four more souls to the party.


 

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