Mari stuck her tongue out in response to Spork’s extended finger, finally taking a bite of her own sandwich as her friend dug into theirs with wolfish glee. Ah, the simple love between a Spork and their food. Truly, it was a wonderful relationship, however short-lived. An errant hashbrown flew her way, softly thudding against the couch as Mari made no move to catch it. She was bad enough at catching things when Spork purposefully tossed them to her, let alone when they were digging through a bag of McDonald’s remnants for a lost drink.
She, of course, immediately spotted the culprit, who snatched up the sugary beverage in an instant. Mari raised an eyebrow at Freyja’s attempt at deception, a slight shake of her head, a warning in tandem; this wasn’t going to end well, and to leave her out of it. She could already tell this was going to go poorly, just by the way the edges of Spork’s voice crackled with frost. Freyja, to her stupid credit, simply made things worse, a lead foot as they were already hurtling towards a cliff edge.
Mari barely had a chance to shout “Spork! My food!” in what they’d called her ‘mom voice’ as furniture shrieked against floor, a rogue sandwich smacked the wall behind her, and Spork had their hands on Freyja, the both of them crashing to the floor below.
Mari would have been content to let them fight. She’d considered warning Freyja that she was not only barking up the wrong tree, but indeed at the wrong forest entirely. But the girl had to learn at some point. There was an art to aggravating Spork, and at its core was knowing when to not push their buttons.
She was going to leave Spork to teach Freyja that lesson before she heard the click of Spork’s teeth snapping against the air along with what sounded suspiciously like a growl. After an (admittedly token), “Hey, stop it”, Mari got up off the couch with a sigh and headed to her lab. Of course this would happen. Where there was pitch, there was ash, and who else really would be able to tug the reins on Spork when they got too caught up in the more physical aspects of kismesitude?
All this drifted through her head as Mari grabbed the spray bottle she kept by her whiteboard and walked back into the living room, twisting the knob to ‘stream’ before sending several squirts of water towards the caliginous couple.
“Knock it off.” Mari deadpanned, ensuring that both of them had been properly drenched before going back to her spot on the couch and returning to her now-cold sandwich. The first one, not the one that had been tossed at her in haste. That one was probably behind the couch already. She’d make Spork get it later.