“Oh pooh,” Henrietta mock pouted, “It looks like it’s just you and me now, child. Pity, I was hoping to save you for the big finale, but I guess destroying some idiot’s delusions of a happy family before a multinational television audience will have to do.”
“As if I’m going to let you get that far!” Kyle angrily beeped at the witch, “You and me, witch! I’ve dealt with far worse than you!”
“Oh is that so?” the witch feigned interest, “How do you mean?”
Keith went stone cold, and said in a toneless voice, “I won a rap battle against a transdimensional zombie murder clown.” Henrietta, upon hearing this claim, burst out laughing until she saw that Keith’s face stayed as emotionless as possible.
“Wait, you were being serious?” Henrietta balked, “WHAT THE FUCK, PUNK?!”
“I‘be faced shit you wouldn’t believe,” Keith said, “and you’ve made a pact with a demon. I’m dating an ex-rockstar demon’s smoking hot daughter. What more do you want out of me?!”
“Okay kid, so you have credentials. Sure, fine. They’re not gonna help you here. You played your ace in the hole too early when you changed the cat girl formerly known as Chester to a rap battle. Nothing is going to protect you and me! My recommendation? Beg for mercy from whatever god you worship. They won’t save you from me… morsel.”
Keith glared up at the witch, then at the computerized maid Martha. “Let’s have the game show tell us how your story ends,” he said, “As my ex boyfriend used to say, ‘BLAM this MOTHERFUCKING piece of SHIT!’”
Round and round the slot machine spun, selecting a game at seemingly random. Then, with a “ding ding ding” did the roulette wheels spin. The game was decided. Ski ball. Two wireframe ski ball cabinets manifested as the contestants assumed their spots.
“A children’s game,” Henrietta chuckled darkly, “nothing easier. I’ll simply win this game and make it to the finale. This will be a piece of-”
DING!
Keith already rolled his first ball into the 100,000 point hole. He turned to Henrietta, smirked, wiggled his eyebrows, and went right back to playing. Henrietta growled out a frustrated profanity and started playing herself. The two were pretty much neck and neck through the entire game. Despite how small he was, the punk had a pretty good arm on him. The clock ticked down. Four minutes. Three minutes. Two. Two and a half. One… half… 15 seconds… The players began to sweat. 10… 9… Keith rolled his ball… 8… Henrietta rolled her ball… 7… 6… Keith watched in dismay as he saw his ball sail over the 100,000 point hole, and landed in the 1,000 hole… and as Henrietta’s ball hit the mark exactly just as the buzzer sounded. Henrietta won by 99,000. The cabinets vanished. The game was over.
“No…,” Keith slumped to his knees, “I… I promised her I would win…”
“Ahh, too bad, so sad,” Henrietta taunted, “Let this be a lesson, child. Never make promises you can’t keep. Face it. The game is over. You lose. Enjoy being a lowly cat girl vanilla pudding cup, The Artist Formerly Known as Boyfriend.XML!”
One flash of light…
Second flash of light…
Third flash of light but this time with feeling?…
The crowd was hushed as they stared at Keith. He was trembling, brought down on his hands and knees, and beeping in pain. He had cat ears and a tail, but those were the only things about him that were different.
“Didn’t you listen to me, worm?” Henrietta snapped, “You lost! That means you become a brainwashed cat girl slave! Give it up, you fucking dumbass!”
“I… made… a… promise…” Keith choked.
“No way… NO WAY!” Bruce the host cried, “This… this has never been caught on camera before! Don’t you all realize what’s going on?! His soul… his soul is too strong! His very soul itself is resisting the transformation! We’re giving it everything we have and it’s still not taking! Dude! What the heck is with this kid?!”