I. Light is Spent.

[maleficentia]

As the French say, tais-toi. Collectively, if you please

Comments

[hatesbears]

Well, well, WELL. If you INSIST.

[maleficentia]

I do, of course. Cuts through all the disingenuous twattery. As it were.

[hatesbears]

Any requests, cuppycake? But do keep in mind I don't fucking do it pro bono.

[maleficentia]

Wouldn't want to tamper with your winning formula. Let the master work, I always say.

[hatesbears]

A fucking plus, you little gumdrop of delight.

[maleficentia]

My pleasure. It's always nice to get graded, once in a while. Professorial duties can be so dull.

[hatesbears]

I can grade you on more than THAT, sugarplum.

[maleficentia]

A comparison of minds. How potentially stimulating.

[hatesbears]

How potentially crushing for you.

[maleficentia]

Oh, I imagine I can hand out the abuse as well as it's given. It's all about the give and take. Or so I gathered from debate club.

[hatesbears]

I thought it was fucking about having your head down a toilet? Or so I gathered from NOT spending my High School lunch times playing chess and waxing poetic.

[maleficentia]

Believe it or not, I was an exception. The jocks did my bidding.

[hatesbears]

Secret? Can't of fucking been my minimal clothing route.

Well, not unless you were at fucking Eton.

[maleficentia]

[Long pause and a bit of a pen mark where Asher stopped to laugh his brains out.]

No, thank Christ. Must have been my general awe-inspiring evil. That, or the fact that I was the one selling them the answers to the tests.

[hatesbears]

Price? Only fucking worth shitting up the curve if you're A) charging a fucking arm, or B) giving the retards the wrong fucking answers.

[maleficentia]

Can you keep a secret?

I liked to mix the two. Kept them on their toes, &c, &c.