Ruiz came into the workshop like a bull in a chinashop, ready to tell Trish she was the worst advice-giver in the multiverse. Only, when he came slamming in, he interrupted her with another customer. This time it was Harper, bright-eyed and grinning like a Chesire cat. “Hi!” the dragon in human disguise declared cheerily. “Trish got my phone back online. Isn’t she brilliant?” The iguana hissed, his jowls and chest expanding with the sound as his tail smacked the wall with a loud THWACK. Though Harper didn’t seem any less cheerful, Trish’s fur stood on and her tail bristled as she locked her jaw shut. Knowingly, Harper asked, “Did you just see Saoirse?”

Taking the invitation to vent, Ruiz pointed a talon at Trish and belted, “I told her no like you said, now I’m taking all your eggs!”

“You said one egg!” Trish threw back, her voice barely concealing the furious ticking noise that was the signature of ferrets.

“Now I’m saying all!”

She pointed a claw at him then. “You better not!”

Meanwhile Harper, bless his little heart, was laughing his fucking head off. “I love you two so much. You’re so funny.” As Harper moved toward Ruiz, looking over his newly refreshed phone, Ruiz stomped towards his and Trish’s living space and out of Harper’s way.

Moments later, Ruiz had scavenged the fridge and had the open carton of hard boiled eggs tucked under his arm. Already popping one of the five remaining eggs into his mouth, Trish came crashing through the living room at him. He dodged her effortlessly as she screeched, “Don’t you dare!”

“You owe me!” he retorted as he chewed, flecks of soft yellow and white shell spraying the air.

“One!” she grabbed at his arm, but he stiffened under her hold. “I owe you ONE!”

“Well guess what?!” He sidestepped the next assault and popped another egg into his mouth. “That’s two!”

“You are such a brat, Ruiz!”

“And you’re an imp!”

Trish let out a series of angry dooks and slugged Ruiz in the sternum. He spat half the egg he’d been chewing, then almost choked trying to catch his breath. “And you’re cleaning that up.” He hacked, covering his mouth so as not to spew anymore egg. In his suffering, Trish jerked the carton out of Ruiz’s arms. “What, did she greet you naked this time or something?”

“Damn near,” he coughed out.

“Ugh!” Trish shoved the eggs back into the fridge, then turned back to Ruiz and struck his back. “Come on, get it together. It wasn’t that hard a punch.”

She struck him again, and he spat, “Not helping!”

Once she’d actually managed to get him to stop hacking, Ruiz started cleaning up the mess he’d spat on the floor. Trish stood with him and helped by handing him products. When he was done, he divulged, “She didn’t take me telling her she’s not my type well.”

“Well, how’d you tell her?” Trish asked.

Ruiz shuffled over to the couch, plopping down in front of the now blank TV and still unfinished CPU. “I told her she was too fleshy and her hair sucks.”

At that, Trish snorted. “That’s tame for you.”

“Yeah, well, when her tit’s threatening to make eye contact, it tends to throw a man off.”

“Yikes.” Trish flopped down beside him, dropping her feet onto his lap. He pushed them off, but she just placed them right back where they were a moment later. “Well, scout’s honor, I won’t force you to go work for her again.”

Ruiz rolled his eyes. “You’ll be sending me there in an hour, and I’ll be dead.”

“She’s not gonna kill you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“You’re being a drama king.”

“Well, what are you gonna do if she shows up randomly and decides to slaughter me for the insult?”

“Don’t worry,” Trish wiggled her feet on his lap, “I’ll rescue the damsel.”

“Eugh,” he rolled his whole head with his eyes. “I think I might actually need to shower after the way she came at me.” He side-eyed her.

Trish’s face lit up. “Please, for the love of God, do it.”