WrestleMania XXX is secretly brilliant.

Well, you could argue that professional wrestling in its entirety is brilliant -- which I’ll do before post’s end, probably -- but I thought I could use a snappier title.  Anyway, Ryan and Rory, if you’re reading this, I hope you enjoy; this post is for you.  Also?  Digeridoos covered in cranberry sauce.  Think about it.  I sure didn’t.

Now, for anyone else reading this, let me be the first to make a confession: I hold pro wrestling in pretty high esteem.  Though technically, I guess I’m closer to being a poser than an actual fan; my fondest memories of the sport come from memories of playing wrestling games, dishing out power bombs, reversing enemy grapples, and breaking the legs of whoever my brother would try to win with (poor virtual Rey Mysterio…).  Beyond that, I’ve always thought that the grapplers in fighting games were the coolest, even if they weren’t exactly the most practical.  Hearing Haggar shout “PILE DRIVER!” made every beating in Marvel vs. Capcom 3 worth it.  Well, almost.

For lack of a better term, for years I’ve seen wrestling as something romantic.  Something that, by nature, is designed to get the blood pumping and the crowd roaring.  Thinking back, I used to tune in to SmackDown consistently before it fell off the basic cable/easily-accessed channels -- a real loss, but one I eventually got over.

But having seen WrestleMania XXX, I’m starting to think that letting the WWE get away from me was a big mistake.  Maybe one that I need to fix.

Warning: spoilers for anyone who hasn’t seen the event yet, so readers beware.  Though on that note, how nuts is it that I have to use spoilers for something like wrestling?

Side note: am I the only one who’s compelled to call it WrestleMania Xrd thanks to the presence of three Xs and the latest Guilty Gear?  Well, probably.  But I’ll use any excuse to work an Ishiwatari song into the mix.

I Hraet You (97)

Beat 97: The Last Face You’ll Never See

The blast’s force blew Lloyd onto his back.  Clouds of dust and chunks of debris swept over him, with shards of stone and wood slashing and crashing against his body.  Yet he counted himself lucky; only a few embers from the explosion seared his skin.  He knew it could have been much worse.

He knew, because he sat up a half-minute after the blast.  He didn’t get to see the balls of fire that had destroyed the house, but columns of flame twisted in the wake.  A tower of black smoke rose from the foundation’s center, disturbed only occasionally by the night breeze.  As for the rest?  Nothing but smoking, crackling wreckage -- and even what little remained of the house crumbled and tumbled, preparing itself for the fire’s feast.

Lloyd just sat there, eyes so wide he nearly tore the muscles within.  He couldn’t feel the blaze’s heat; if anything, he felt as if he’d leapt inside a freezer.  He couldn’t get his mouth to work; he couldn’t get his body to work.  But in spite of everything, his mind remained in full working order.

He’d watched the O’Leary house explode before his eyes.

The same house that Sheila had just entered.

“Sheila…”  Lloyd squeaked.  He raised a trembling hand, as if hoping someone would come and take it -- as if someone would help him stand up.  “Sheila…!”

But nobody came.  Nobody.

And that meant just one thing.

Lloyd stumbled to his feet, and stared at the blooming blaze.  He kept his hand held out, still trembling, still expecting -- hoping -- praying that someone would come and take it.  But nobody came.  He could only expect a wisp of flame to lash at his hand.  He had lost her.  He had to accept it.

But he didn’t have to be graceful about it.

“SHEILAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”

I Hraet You (96)

Beat 96: The Capper

With its shift on the wane, the sun began its usual commute into Porbeagle’s horizon.  The day’s heat subsided bit by bit, but the hint of salt in the air still wafted regularly past the townsfolk.  As always, the sky welcomed and displayed streaks of gold and orange, with the sun’s rays peeking through thick, slate-hued clouds.  The town might have known no shortage of frenzy -- in the past, present, or future -- but as it citizens shuffled off for their homes, a sense of tranquility pervaded throughout.

Lloyd smiled.  He was exactly where he wanted to be -- outside a supermarket holding a girl’s hair as she puked repeatedly into a trash can.

“MRFRAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!” Sheila’s body quivered and buckled for the thirty-second time that day, and the splatter of liquefied lunches echoed out of the can.  When she finished, she pushed herself up from the rim and gasped for air.  “Okay…okay…I think that’s the last of it.”

“You’re sure this time?” Lloyd asked.

Sheila stood a few inches higher and sniffled.  “…Nope.  Still more.” 

Her ear wiggled, but Deirdre didn’t get the chance to say a word; she just bent back down and fired off another sickening salvo.  “MRFRAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!”

“Is that the last of it?” Lloyd asked.

Deirdre stood up slowly.  “Yeah.  Yeah.  Yeah, I think…I think that’s it.”  She stepped away from Lloyd and patted a hand against her stomach.  “So I guess I learned something new today: I REALLY hate puking.”

I Hraet You (94)

Beat 94: Consider Disconnections, Consider Connections

“More than friends,” Lloyd repeated.  “Oh.  You mean lovers, right?”

Sheila pulled away from Lloyd, as if his denseness had pried them apart.  “W-well, what else is there?” she asked.  She lowered her head and pressed her fingers together, her face reddening yet again.  “I mean…you know…if you want to…I-I-I wouldn’t mind.”  But she jerked her head back up, and held her hands out in defense.  “Oh, but only when you’re ready!  I don’t mind waiting -- we really should take things slowly, shouldn’t we?  I am pretty new at this, after all.”

“You want to be my lover, huh…?”  Lloyd folded his arms and stared absentmindedly at the sky.  For once in his life he went silent, with the only noise coming from him -- and indeed, the only noise in the plaza’s alley -- being the shuffling of feet across oil-splattered concrete.  And when he’d done that a few dozen times, he glanced to the east, mouth covered and gaze airy.

“Um, Lloyd?  Do you -- are you --?”  Sheila shuffled in turn, but not nearly as long.  “We can be more than friends, can’t we?”

Lloyd turned back to her.  “Why?”

I Hraet You (93)

 Beat 93: Should’ve Thrown Her in a Rubber Room…

Lloyd trotted out of the gas station at a brisk pace, holding up a plastic bag like a stolen treasure.  In his haste, he nearly became the new hood ornament of a passing truck -- but a quick swivel of his feet put him back on track and heading across the street.  “Miss O’Lea- I mean, Sheila!  I have returned with good news, and a greater bounty!” he cheered, and stumbled toward her after tripping on the curb.  “Behold!  The fruits of my -- which is to say some factory somewhere in the depths of this continent -- labors!”

“What did you get?” Sheila asked.

“Ha ha!  Prepare yourself for a grand treat, my dear!”  He reached into the bag and pulled out his bounty: a honey bun, with its glaze and sugars sticking to the crinkled wrapping.  “If what I’ve heard is true, there’s nary a woman in this world that can resist the allure of sweets.  Therefore, I offer this, a swirly tribute, to your magnificent being!”

Sheila’s head tilted slowly.  “Do I…have to say some kind of poem before I take it?”  She scratched her temple.  “I don’t think I’ve got it in me to talk like a super-flowery dandy all day long like you do.”

She’s on-point with her offhand insults, Lloyd thought with a sigh.  In spite of that, he handed her the honey bun, and watched in silence as Sheila took a few delicate bites.  “Well?  How is it?”

“It’s good.  Really good.”

Lloyd snapped his fingers.  “Heh HA!  Excellent!  So it would seem that the words of men wiser than me have come to pass!  I’ll be sure to rely on their wisdom in the future, that I may continue to win your favor!  Mayhap some day in the future, I’ll be able to offer you a cake of the highest caliber.”  He stroked his chin.  “Perhaps one with a distinct cantaloupe flavor?  I’ve always felt as if it’s a bit underrated in the fruity pantheon, you see.”

I Hraet You (92)

Beat 92: Romance Never Dies (Except When it Does)

Deirdre took note of Lloyd’s blank stare, and sidled up to him as fast as she could (if only to save face).  “Oh?  What have we here?  You look like a boy who has excellent taste.”  She sashayed her hips, and tossed a hand through a few bangs.  “So.  Do you like what you see?”

Lloyd pointed to her face.  “Your nose is running.”

Deirdre wore her sultry smile for as long as she could -- at least until a stream of snot dribbled down her bottom lip.  She ran a forearm across her face and leapt away, turning her back on Lloyd once more.  “Damn it, Sheila!  Why isn’t that spray working the way it’s supposed to?  I can be sexy, but not when I’ve got a nose like a broken faucet!”

Her ear wiggled, and she turned her head left.  “I gave you all the good stuff already,” said Sheila.  She pumped her fists up and down.  “By the way, that good stuff wasn’t cheap, so don’t expect to see too much of it again.”

Her ear wiggled, and she turned her head right.  “THAT was the good stuff?” Deirdre yelled.  She stomped a foot against the ground.  “That crap barely lasted for an hour!  And it burned the hell out of my nose!”

“You mean our nose.”

“Whatever!  Just do something about your nose already so I can work my magic!”

“I don’t think there’s anything I can do -- unless you feel like spending a half hour in the bathroom.”

“Doing what?”

“W-well, they usually have plenty of toilet paper…”

“Oh, screw you!  I’d rather clamp my nose shut than spend a second in a germy public bathroom!”

“Might I offer a solution, ladies?”

I Hraet You (91)

Beat 91: All Hail Puppeteers (and also Makeovers)

“A date?” JP shouted.  “You want to go out on a date?”

Lloyd nodded and resumed his business.  “Well, of course.  At the moment I’m hard-pressed to think of any other way to interact with Miss O’Leary.  Not to mention that she was the one that propositioned me; it would be outright callous of me to…”  He lifted his head and stared at JP with wide eyes.  “Oh!  So this is what they call a date!  My, I’m starting to get a bit excited!”

“Lloyd, are you KIDDING ME?  Don’t go out on a date with someone that almost killed you!”

Lloyd tilted his head back down.  “It was an act of near-homicide bred of misguided adoration.  Nothing more.  Or if you prefer, a misappropriation of effort.  But as I explained to you, I’ve managed to sort out a number of Miss O’Leary’s issues.  And beyond that, my adventures with her don’t end just because she’s reached four stars; I made her a promise, and I intend to make good on it, being her comrade for as long as I’m able.  So what follows next is a matter of…of…”  He furrowed his brow.  “I can’t quite seem to figure out how this mechanism is supposed to work.”

JP covered his face.  “Over and under, Lloyd.  Over and under, then you make two loops and --”

“Ah, so that’s the key!  Yes, that makes perfect sense!”  Lloyd nodded rapidly, and finished tying his shoes.  “There we are!  Fully threaded and ready for a day of true merriment!”

“Have I ever mentioned how much of a disappointment you are?  Because I get the feeling that I don’t say that as much as I should.”

I Hraet You (90)

Beat 90: The Only Viable Response to Rejection

Lloyd sat on what remained of the den’s couch, scratching absentmindedly at his temple.  Thankfully, he’d gotten over his grogginess -- though he couldn’t deny a hidden desire to go to the hospital, or at least see a school nurse -- and at the moment had little more than a rumbling stomach.  If he wasn’t half-covered in bandages, wounds, and a forcibly-made pair of shorts, he might have looked as if he’d gained inner peace.

The same couldn’t be said for Sheila.  She might not have taken as much punishment as Lloyd, but as she sat across from Lloyd on the remnants of a coffee table, she looked about ready to pledge herself as a slave to the first person that walked past.  She kept her head hung low, and gripped her knees with the force of a vise.  Said knees wobbled and knocked together on occasion, and her uplifted shoulders trembled enough to dance out of their sockets.  The only thing she could get to come down normally were streams of snot dribbling down her nose -- and as always, she sucked them back up at perfectly-timed intervals.

Trixie leaned toward Lloyd’s ear from behind the couch.  “I got a real bad feelin’ ‘bout all this, pal.  Ya sure this is all gonna work out?”

I Hraet You (89)

Beat 89: No Victory for Old Psychologists

“Combine?” Lloyd repeated.  “Wait a moment.  So does that mean…?”

“Uh-huh.”  Sheila gestured toward Deirdre.  “It’s like she said.  She can’t beat you.  And neither can I -- so I guess you can call this your win.”  She pressed her fingers together.  “A-a-although I’m sorry you had to work so hard to get this far.  It’s -- i-i-it’s not like I wanted to cause so much trouble.  It just kind of…happened.”

“Think nothing of it.  Although…”  Lloyd’s eyes shifted to his left.  “Am I really the one you should be apologizing to?”

“But…but I…”

Lloyd flashed a smile.  “I would consider myself lucky to be in your position, Miss O’Leary.  I imagine very few people ever get a chance to have a conversation with their imaginary friends.  I’d bet there are more than a few kindergarteners that are jealous of you -- so why not take advantage of the opportunity?  You might never get one again.”

Sheila nodded -- and with an unsteady step, she turned to face Deirdre at last.  “I…s-sorry, but I…I don’t even know where to begin.  I mean, this is all so unreal, I…”  She rubbed the back of her head.  “Gosh, this is really gonna be hard…”

Deirdre just stared at Sheila, her smirk long since gone.

I Hraet You (88)

Beat 88: The Greatest Euphemism

“The madam…?” Deirdre asked.  “You mean --?”

Sheila nodded slowly.  “My mom.  He’s…he’s talking about my mom.  Though I don’t really know what he’s getting at here.”

“Worry not.  Everything will become clear soon enough,” said Lloyd.  “Rest assured, she is as much the key to your transformation as the concept of dreams.  But in order to expound on either of them, there’s a topic that we have to discuss at some length.  One that’s been on my mind for quite some time, even before her entry and departure from this audition room.”

“Wh-what’s that?”

“Isn’t it obvious?  Child-rearing.”

For a second it looked as if both the girls might fall right off the stage -- and if Deirdre hadn’t been fused to said stage, she very well might have. 

“My.  That’s quite a reaction from a pair of ladies that had aims to do something so scandalous,” Lloyd said as he stroked his chin.  “Could it be that in spite of all your bluster, neither of you are quite ready to take that fateful plunge?”

“Don’t get smart with me, boy!” Deirdre snapped.

I Hraet You (87)

Beat 87: If You Say It, They Will Crack

“Sorry.  But your time’s up.”

Deirdre held up a hand, and brushed nonchalantly at a few bangs.  “Just how long have you been trying to seal the deal here?  And how many times have you come up empty-handed?”  She shook her head.  “Face it.  There isn’t a shred of proof you could offer, and not a thing you can do to change the world -- yours, mine, or hers.  You’ve just been wasting your time here -- so why don’t you just accept that and go with what comes easiest?”  She turned an eye upon Sheila -- fidgeting, and unable to look anyone in the eye, but still offering a clumsy nod. 

“So you would rather let things stay the way they are, rather than try to improve your lot in life?” Lloyd asked.  He covered his mouth.  “I know the O’Leary women can be a bit stubborn, but to go this far…I fail to see the gain from it.”

“I…th-that’s because I…”  Sheila shook her head, letting a few globs of snot slide across her face in the process.  “If things can’t change -- if I can’t change -- then that’d make all your effort pointless, right?  So maybe…I-I dunno, maybe this is as far as I can go.”  She found just enough spirit to look down at Lloyd.  “Maybe it’s better if you just give up.”

Lloyd’s brow started to tense.  “So let me see if I understand this correctly.  The real Miss O’Leary would prefer to bring this venture to an end and risk having her body commandeered by her alter ego.  Meanwhile, the unreal Miss O’Leary would prefer to have her creator suppressed -- if not erased outright -- even if that could lead to any number of catastrophes, metaphysical or not.  Do I have that right?”

I Hraet You (86)

Beat 86: Pulling Two Out of a Hat

Lloyd took another deep breath, resting his palms on the desk as he inhaled and exhaled.  Just a few moments ago his heart would have thumped louder than anything the ladies onstage could have produced -- even if they’d started shouting at full blast.  But now he could hear everything clearly.  The hum of their failing stars.  Their muted yet panicked whimpers -- from the recoiling Sheila as well as the humbled Deirdre.  And most of all, the thoughts whirling about inside his head -- a storm of words, linking together into a single chain of reason.

He took one last breath, and looked up at the pair.  It’s time to bring this audition to an end.

“Miss O’Leary,” he began.  He shifted his eyes from Sheila to Deirdre.  “And Miss O’Leary.  I understand what plagues you so -- why my words have dealt you both a critical blow.  I had originally assumed that the reason for an imaginary friend was to honor and idealize the mother figure.  But I was mistaken; the true intention was to carry out revenge, and make a target out of the woman who had slighted you so dearly.  That was the reason for your original form being the madam.  And the reason for your current form -- the reason for your reaction -- is an understandable one.”

Sheila and Deirdre stared at Lloyd with probing gazes.  He knew they wanted an answer.  And he was happy to give one.

“It’s guilt.”

I Hraet You (85)

Beat 85: To the Chewy Chocolate Center and Beyond

Deirdre hummed to herself, and pressed a finger to her chin.  “Oh my…I think I’m starting to fall for you, Lloyd.  All that passion coming out so freely…it’s enough to make my heart beat faster.  I don’t suppose staying a while is in the cards right now?”  She winked at him and blew him a kiss.

But Lloyd didn’t even register it.  The kiss, her voice, even her presence; he just stood his ground, his palms digging into the desk and threatening to snap it in two.  His stare had intensified to an almost lethal degree; the heat it cast could have started a fire, and each eye shone brighter than one raging in the wilds.  If he could have, he would have gladly given that light to Sheila.  She needed it desperately -- her stars had long since started their final, pathetic spasms.

But that was fine.  Lloyd had made his decision.  He’d made his stand, his choice, and his pledge.  And now…

“It’s time, Miss O’Leary.  Let’s begin.”

Sheila shuddered and fell to her knees, but found just enough energy to look up at Lloyd.  “I-it’s hopeless,” she said breathlessly -- between pained breaths, no less.  “I…I’m…I’m useless.  There’s…nothing left for me to do…I-I..I’m just too…worthless…”

“YOU’VE GOT THAT WRONG!”

I Hraet You (84)

Beat 84: Now THIS is Hot Blood!

It’s at times like these where I have to wonder what sort of deity I’ve irritated to reach this point, Lloyd thought with sagging shoulders.  But he perked up quickly, and focused his gaze dead ahead.  But even if I’ve incurred the wrath of heaven, that’s no excuse for me to stop now.  I need to figure this out.  And soon.

He watched Deirdre’s stars closely.  One fully dimmed; the other, well beyond half-empty.  It almost looked as if some cruel cartoonist had taken his eraser to the star’s light, rubbing away every last bit of gleam -- of hope -- he could reach.  Despite that, Deirdre looked remarkably calm; she’d dropped all pretenses of looking comely and seductive, and merely stood in place with crossed arms and a slight smile.  If Lloyd didn’t know any better, he’d have thought she’d found inner peace.

“Better work fast, sweet cheeks,” said Deirdre.  “If you don’t figure out what you’ve missed, then you’re going to have to live with the consequences.”

I Hraet You (83)

Beat 83: Well, Probability IS a Part of Math…

“Wrong?  What do you mean ‘wrong’?” Lloyd asked.

Sheila shook her head.  “I-I know you mean well, but…even if you are the director, you’ve still made some pretty big mistakes.”  She rubbed her nose, all too wary of the snot dribbling atop her finger.  “Sorry, but…I think there’s a saying out there about making assumptions.  Or something.  P-probably.”

I think the saying she’s thinking of has something to do with asses, Lloyd thought.  And if what she says is true, then I’ve been making one of myself here.  His eyes went back and forth between Sheila and Deirdre; the latter had regained some semblance of her posture, but now she looked as if she’d been locked in a sauna -- sweating, with arms pulled in close, and no shortage of frustration in her face.  The former, at least, stood her ground -- but she’d never looked confident in the first place, and wasn’t about to anytime soon.

So close, yet so far.  I’m certain I’ve made strides toward the conclusion, but to be rejected by Miss O’Leary so directly…could I have gotten off-track somewhere along the line?  If so, perhaps my claims of seeing her heart were a bit premature.

I Hraet You (82)

Beat 82: That’ll Take the Wind Outta Your Sails

Sheila sucked a few gallons of snot back into her system, and took a deep breath.  “O-okay.  I guess this is it, then,” she said to herself -- though more than loud enough for Lloyd to hear from the floor below.  She reached into her shirt and pulled out a roll of papers.  “Um…sorry you had to see that just now.  Things can get a little…uh…weird when I’m around.”

Lloyd’s eyes darted to the wall.  Sure enough, Deidre’s legs still dangled from it like a mounted trophy.  “I can imagine.  Although I am glad you made your grand debut.  Any more delay, and I suspect I’d be little more than a smoldering smear.”  He turned back to Sheila and nodded.  “I’m thankful you decided to step in, Miss O’Leary.”

“Y-yeah, well…um…you know…”  She pressed her fingers together.  “It’s just -- I-I’m kinda responsible for this mess I’m in.  I mean, that girl is…well, she’s a part of me.  And I guess I need to start taking responsibility for her.”  Her eyes shifted around the room.  “But, um, I never thought I’d be doing that in person.  This whole thing is kinda nuts -- I-I mean, I thought I was just coming here for an audition, and then all of a sudden I’m drop-kicking my imaginary friend.”  She scratched at her temple.  “And I think there was something about you turning into a girl…”

“Oh, so you saw that,” Lloyd said with a nervous laugh.  “Not my finest hour, that.”

I Hraet You (81)

Beat 81: Overpowering the Overpowering…With Power

“Wha…what the hell?”  Deirdre stared at the flaming vines with wide eyes.  In spite of her trembling body -- or likely because of it -- she swept a hand about to shift their aim.  But it didn’t work; the pair of vines remained locked on to her curvy form.  Neither of them moved, but the threat of violence proved more than enough to make Deirdre start sweating. 

“So my theory proved right, then,” said Lloyd.  He kept navigating the vine-laden walls of the pit, but at a much more casual pace than before; they hadn’t stopped, but they’d slowed down enough to create the illusion.  “Whatever you can imagine becomes real -- but as an imaginary being in your own right, you’re bound by a set rules and limitations.”

“What are you playing at, boy?”

“I’m afraid I’m not playing at anything.  Though more than likely, the one who’s being ‘played’ here is you.”  His eyes swept through the pit.  “Since the moment this venture started, we haven’t been alone.  You may have been the first to approach me, but you did so in tandem with one other.”

“Who?”

“Isn’t it obvious?  Miss O’Leary is here.  Or rather, everywhere.”

I Hraet You (80)

Beat 80: If Only It Were Rabbit Season…

“’Now I can see your heart’?  What, is that supposed to be your catch phrase or something?” Deirdre asked.  “Because if you ask me, it’s a pretty bad one, little boy.  Even the worst pick-up line is better than that.”

Lloyd’s finger drooped, and he rubbed his crown sheepishly.  “Well, truth be told it’s a bit of a work in progress.  Though you could argue the same about my mere existence…but let’s not dilly-dally with semantics at the moment.”  He resumed his normal posture, and gave Deirdre a nod.  “There’s a battle to be won, after all.  And it’s thanks to the dear madam that I have just enough of a foundation for my offense.”

“So, you’re planning on making me go gentle into the night?”

Lloyd shook his head.  “I intend to save the two of you in one fell swoop.  You are -- or at least, I hope you are -- two halves of the same coin.  To remove one is to restrict the other.  Therefore, I’ve but one option.”

“And that is?”

“To reconnect the disconnected.”  Lloyd thrust his finger at her once more.  “Before this is over, the O’Leary women shall be as one.”

I Hraet You (79)

Beat 79: An Origin Story?  Nah, Man

Lloyd rubbed his hair.  “Er, my apologies, ma’am, but I think I’m missing something here.  You made it sound as if you were responsible for Miss O’Leary’s problems.  And as her mother, surely that isn’t the case.”

But Jane gave him a brisk nod, staring ahead as Deirdre started to drag the soap out of her mouth.  “I’m afraid that’s exactly the case, Lloyd.  If it wasn’t for me, maybe you’d be having an easier time here -- and maybe my daughter and I would be better off.”  She lowered her gaze.  “I guess I botched this whole motherhood business somewhere along the line.  I had a hunch that I’d done something wrong, but seeing something like this before my eyes…it’s the kind of thing that’ll make you regret ever deciding to ride up to Make-Out Ridge after the big dance.”

“I think this conversation is in danger of being derailed, ma’am.”  Lloyd looked up at the ring above Jane’s head -- still shining, but with each passing second its innards emptied further.  “We’d best cooperate more efficiently.  I doubt I’ll be able to do anything without you.”

“You’ve got that wrong, Lloyd.”  Jane shook her head, but smiled regardless.  “I’ll be sure to support you however I can.  But the one who’s going to win this thing -- the one who’s going to save my daughter -- is you.”

I Hraet You (78)

Beat 78: Oh, Assist Will Work Nicely -- That Starts With A

Just seconds ago, Deirdre looked furious enough to roundhouse-kick Lloyd’s head off his neck.  But seeing Lloyd fumble with that quill pen turned her grimace into her typical sultry grin.  “Having a bit of trouble there, boy?  Come on, now -- getting into action shouldn’t be that hard, now should it?”

Lloyd’s eyes darted between Deirdre and the pen in his hands.  As long as Deirdre was caught in those vines, he still had some breathing room -- at least a few seconds’ worth of it.  “Er, if I could ask that you allow me a minute or twenty to find out how to use this, I’m almost certain you’ll be well-rewarded.”

Deirdre waved her hand, and the vines around her legs sank into the audition room floor.  “I’m coming for you, boy,” she said with a chuckle -- and sure enough, she floated towards him at a steady clip.

“I don’t suppose this is the feather of a silly cap?” 

“Are you asking me that?”

Lloyd’s shoulders slumped.  “I figured I might as well.”