(Untitled)

[deserved_it]

Hey, candy!

There's a pop, as might be made by someone going from teenage-boy-sized to small-dog-sized.

Well, small-dog-sized. Small-dragon-shaped, though, wings, claws, and all.

There's a surprised SQUAWK, and then an outraged one as Eustace gets a look at the note inside the candy wrapper, accompanied by a puff of flame and smoke.

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[kitchen_maid]

Amy comes downstairs, humming a bit to herself, and stops up short.

"Oh, no," she says. "Absolutely not. I am not getting married."

[deserved_it]

Hey, look! Someone he knows!

. . . Now, does he flee in humliation or see if she can help?

Decisions, decisions.

[kitchen_maid]

Amy waves one hand at him.

"Shoo."

Before someone rescues her. Please.

[deserved_it]

He jumps up to sit on a nearby table, and waves a slightly frantic wing at her.

[kitchen_maid]

Amy looks warily at the dragon.

"If you're the sort of dragon who gets people married, we're going to have a problem."

She frowns. "Nod or something if you're not."

[deserved_it]

He shakes his head.

[kitchen_maid]

"All right," she says, coming over to the table. "So what do you want?"

[deserved_it]

Producing a scrap of paper -- a candy wrapper -- he hands it to her. And waits.

[kitchen_maid]

Amy reads the piece of paper, and blinks. Unfortunately, Eustace, Amy is from before the calendar was reorganized, and therefore has no idea what April Fool's Day is.

"What does this mean? Effects? What effects? If you've done something to me . . . "

[deserved_it]

Eustace flails, shakes his head, and taps a claw on his breastbone.

[kitchen_maid]

"You know, you're not making even a little bit of sense," she says to the dragon.

"I'm guessing you know what this says, so I'm guessing you can read. Can you write?"

[deserved_it]

He faceclaws.

And nods, hesitantly. He remembers all too well that dragon bodies are not really designed for things like writing.

[kitchen_maid]

Amy gets a piece of paper and a pencil from Bar. As she's explained to Bar who they're for, they might be slightly easier for him to use than he's expecting.

Or they might not.

"Now," says Amy, firmly, setting them in front of him, "just what in blazes is going on here?"

[deserved_it]

He pins the paper beneath a back claw, grabs the pencil in both front claws, and scrawls:

EUSTACE

[kitchen_maid]

Amy frowns. "You're looking for Eustace? Why?"

She finds this whole thing very suspicious.

[deserved_it]

Eustace stares at her.

Then, deliberately, points at the paper and points at himself, followed by a hopeful cock of the head.