Page 87 of Demons In My Head: Exposing the Exiled
"Most people do," I replied, spreading my arms wide. "But they don't usually steal my fucking bread when I'm on an important mission."
"Important mission?" He snorted, then zipped across the kitchen, grabbing a wheel of cheese. "I'm on a mission too. Stocking up before the big crowd shows up. Those dragons eat like... well, dragons."
I narrowed my eyes. "Don’t mock my mission."
"Seems we’re on the same assignment, demon. Now, catch!"
The cheese wheel flew at my face at approximately the speed of light. I ducked, and it exploded against the wall behind me, showering the entire area with dairy shrapnel.
"Motherfucker!" I shouted, scooping up a handful of flour from a nearby barrel and launching it in his direction. "That wasartisanal!"
The flour cloud engulfed him, turning his skin ghost white. He looked down at himself, then back at me with vampiric outrage, fangs on full display. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to get this out of leather?"
"About as hard as it'll be to get those stupid-ass pointy teeth out of your ass when I'm done with you," I growled, already reaching for more ammunition.
Faris disappeared in a blur, reappearing with a bottle of olive oil that he promptly uncorked and squirted in my direction. I dodged, but not fast enough, and my left wing got drenched.
"Fuck! That's going to take forever to clean!"
"Exactly." He grinned, fangs glinting. "Pro tip! Try dish soap. Works wonders on grease."
I retaliated by grabbing three eggs in each hand and throwing them rapid-fire. Four of them found their target, cracking open on his chest and dripping down his front. The other two sailed past him and hit a passing kitchen servant, who shrieked and fled.
"Civilians, Talon!" Faris mock-scolded, ripping open a cabinet and pulling out what looked like a sack of potatoes. "Let me show you how it's done."
He swung the sack overhead like an Olympic hammer thrower, building momentum before releasing it. The burlap split mid-air, unleashing a potato hailstorm that pummeled everything in a five-foot radius. Including me.
"Ow! Shit!" I rubbed my forehead where a particularly enthusiastic spud had connected. "That's deadly assault with a root vegetable, you sick fuck!"
My tail lashed out, knocking over a barrel of what turned out to be molasses. The sticky black substance flowed across the floor, trapping Faris's boots.
"Ha! Gotcha now, blood sucker!" I crowed, grabbing a nearby pitcher of cream and advancing on my trapped adversary.
Faris looked down at his stuck feet, then up at me with a smirk. "Did you, though?"
He vanished—literally fuckingvanished—leaving his boots behind in the molasses. He reappeared on top of the center island, now barefoot and looking entirely too pleased with himself.
"That's cheating!" I protested.
"Says the demon with wings and a tail," he shot back, rummaging through his pockets until he found what he was looking for. His eyes lit up as he pulled out a small packet of powdered cheese, the kind used for cheap macaroni and cheese.
"Where did you even get that?”He shrugged as he ripped open the packet with his teeth and dumped the contents into his palm. “I bring my own provisions to parties.” He slowly raised his palm to his nose. “Don't you dare—" I started.
He dared. Ohhh, he fucking dared!
"SNORT!" he announced, as if the action needed verbal accompaniment. His eyes watered immediately, and he began sneezing violently, each explosive outburst sending puffs of orange dust into the air. "FUCK! MISTAKE! HUGE MISTAKE!"
I doubled over laughing, wings flapping uncontrollably and sending gusts of air that knocked over several more containers. "Your face!" I wheezed. "It's so...orange!"
Between sneezes, Faris managed to grab a jar of what looked like preserved fruit. He hurled it in my direction with surprising accuracy for someone whose eyes were streaming with cheese-induced tears.
The jar exploded against my chest, covering me in sticky purple... something. I looked down in horror. "Is this...beets? You hit me with fuckingbeets?!"
"Consider it a fashion upgrade," he gasped between sneezes.
I roared and grabbed the nearest object, which happened to be a large jug of milk, and charged. Faris, still partially blinded and sneezing orange puffs, didn't move fast enough. I tackled him off the island and into the remains of a flour sack, upending the milk jug over his head as we crashed to the floor.
We lay there in the epicenter of food carnage, both of us laughing like maniacs. The kitchen looked like a culinary bomb had detonated. Flour dust hanging in the air, potatoes scatteredlike landmines, and various liquids forming multicolored pools across the floor.
