Mag Mell That Ends Well — Page 18
Fetch isn’t really the planning type.
↓ Transcript
PANEL 1: Fetch speaks to Fiona and the Pixies. Other members of the household stand behind them, listening: Hob, Brian, Fernis, and Mary.
FETCH: Don’t worry. Knob didn’t see any security cameras because they hadn’t been installed yet. I checked. Remember, we’ve been pranking for a long time. We even have fancy degrees from The University of Hell. When it comes to the art of sabotage, we’re experts!
FIONA: Oh, lordy.
PANEL 2: Fetch close up.
FETCH: You’re missing the big picture here. No one will invest in Monroe’s shitty condos now. The lords and ladies of the high courts want nothing to do with us. We’re dangerous, unpredictable! The Unseelie Courts are only for “that sort of people” — our sort!
PANEL 3: Same.
FETCH: Soon enough the elven snobs will all move back to their cairns and castles, and leave us to our bogs and ruins. Get it? We won!
PANEL 4: Fiona, arms crossed, looking skeptical, household behind her. Fetch sheepish grinning.
FIONA: I see. Planned all that out, didja?
FETCH: Well, nooo… but it worked out that way. All good, y’know?
PANEL 5: Fiona from shoulders down. Fetch bows, mock contrite.
FIONA: Fine. You’re a fool, but a lucky fool. Don’t pull shite like that again without you first runnin’ it by us, aye?
FETCH: I bend to the will of the collective.
FETCH: Don’t worry. Knob didn’t see any security cameras because they hadn’t been installed yet. I checked. Remember, we’ve been pranking for a long time. We even have fancy degrees from The University of Hell. When it comes to the art of sabotage, we’re experts!
FIONA: Oh, lordy.
PANEL 2: Fetch close up.
FETCH: You’re missing the big picture here. No one will invest in Monroe’s shitty condos now. The lords and ladies of the high courts want nothing to do with us. We’re dangerous, unpredictable! The Unseelie Courts are only for “that sort of people” — our sort!
PANEL 3: Same.
FETCH: Soon enough the elven snobs will all move back to their cairns and castles, and leave us to our bogs and ruins. Get it? We won!
PANEL 4: Fiona, arms crossed, looking skeptical, household behind her. Fetch sheepish grinning.
FIONA: I see. Planned all that out, didja?
FETCH: Well, nooo… but it worked out that way. All good, y’know?
PANEL 5: Fiona from shoulders down. Fetch bows, mock contrite.
FIONA: Fine. You’re a fool, but a lucky fool. Don’t pull shite like that again without you first runnin’ it by us, aye?
FETCH: I bend to the will of the collective.
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