Part 2

On the night of the Carnevale, the banquet hall in Palazzo Mercado was bustling with people dressed up in colourful masks. The highly emotional music suffused the ambience with a soothing atmosphere as they all mingled with one another.
Voger and Hanster roamed the hall dressed up in the waitress uniforms of the palace. Kobolds were regularly used to fill vacancies for service jobs in stressful environments, so getting his girls on the staff turned out to be the easy part. That didn’t mean they could get anywhere near sticklers like Catalina, who insisted on being served by human personnel only. So Hanster “accidentally” dropped a fork on the floor. Having a tray balanced on each paw, she could scarcely move to pick it up.
“Don’t worry,” One of the waiters told her as he bent down, “I’ll get it.”
While he was preoccupied with the floor, Voger passed by with a tray of her own. She took the opportunity to swap out the plate on his tray with that of her own, without missing a beat. In the dense crowd, no one noticed the discrete exchange.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” Hanster curtsied, shooting him a blushed smile, “I’ll bring it back to the kitchen. Just put it in my mouth.”
She opened her mouth.
He just shrugged and slipped it inside, after which Hanster strode off. All while her tail was wagging behind her.

Meanwhile, on the tray the waiter was carrying, a tiny hand belonging to a tiny man slid from underneath one of the cups. It grabbed the folded piece of vellum on which the designated table was written, and pulled it inside.
A second later, the vellum slipped out from under the cup again, now with a new order: Table #6.

The waiter made his way to the table and left the plate there. Once again, the silver cup was lifted from the inside, just enough for a pair of teeny tiny eyes to shift about.
The coast was clear.
Mr Qwadeur climbed out, looking left and right ffor the hem of the table cloth. He found it, then ran towards it in a spring to slip underneath.
His latest invention was working stupendously! To be able to change size at ones leisure was every prankmeister’s wet dream, and he was currently living it before his eyes. But Mr Qwadeur was not there to play.

He crawled on his stomach under the tablecloth, until he reached the third position.
Perfect. He slid off the table, and leapt onto the cushioned seat. A fanciful blanket was folded over the cushion so that all of its four corners met in the middle. He did not see the whoopie cushion anywhere, so it must be under the blanket. He rushed to the middle to unfurl it.
He kicked away each corner, until the main cushion underneath was revealed. But no whoopie cushion anywhere to be seen. Only a glass vial, tiny enough to hold in his hand even in his shrunken state. Attached to it was a note.

Mr Qwadeur,

Congratulations on making it this far.
I took the liberty of cooking up an anti-shrink potion just for you.
Better take it now. Before it’s too late.

• Best regards, You Know Who

…She tricked him.
For all that time, he played right into her trap. But if she expected him to drink that concoction, then she was sorely mistaken. For one, he couldn’t be sure it did what she proposed. In best case, he’d return to normal size like it said. Right in the middle of everyone. Then he'd be the epicenter of outrage beyond proportion.

At that point, the sky opened up. Or rather, the chair was scooted out from under the table. Catalina stood over him. She hadn’t noticed him. In fact, she was about to get herself seated. Mr Qwadeur saw her enormous yet indisputably shapely rear, encased in the glistening gold of her dress, zoom in at an alarming rate.

Right. It was high time to abort mission. He jumped away. Or at least he tried. Something tugged on his leg.
He rolled around, landing on his back and looked around himself. Flypaper.
Mr Qwadeur thrashed about violently, looking haplessly as Catalina’s ass fell towards him like a guillotine.
Did Madame Lungal orchestrate that? Was it her intention to have him crushed by one of the most powerful butts in all of Orderdom?

No, wait… The potion…
If he drank it, then he might survive the onslaught of the Grand Master’s ass. But then…
He didn’t have any time to ponder the consequences. At that point, her blotted out the sky, a looming shadow sweeping over him.
He chugged it down.

Next thing he knew, glasses crashed on the ground. The fervent murmur of dense crowds discussing mirthfully amongst itself was replaced by silent shocked gasps.
Suddenly Mr Qwadeur found himself lying with his head resting on the chair, his face buried in Catalina’s pert rear.
Surprisingly he wasn’t hurt. In spite of her hardcore personality, Catalina had a soft butt. Firm. But soft.

He wasn’t hurt at least, but he had never been so bewildered and embarrassed. Catalina stood up when she realized that something was wrong, looking down at her seat to see the face of the emperor-level pervert who evidently went to extraordinary lengths just to get to be sat on by the leader of the Meruvean Knights.
“Uh… Hi there!” Mr Qwadeur smiled and waved awkwardly.

“Master!” Voger shrieked, utterly hurt and despondent, “If you wanted to be sat on so bad, you could’ve just asked me!”
"Yeah! And me!” Hanster folded her arms, “Then you wouldn’t need to be in this predicament!”
Mr Qwadeur sneered at the little dog girls, “I wasn’t… I didn’t… Gahhh!”
He would have given each of them a thorough spanking, had it not been determined for him that he would spend the first two months of lent in the pillories at the center of St Brunius Square.
He groaned, “Nevermind. Did you bring any food?”
“But of course, Master!” Hanster pulled the rag off of the plate, “Bread porridge with sesame seeds!”

His expression slumped, “With honey at least? Or butter?”
They shook their heads.
“Sorry, Master.” Voger offered, “We thought it‘d make your punishment more lenient if the guards didn’t get to see you breaking fast.”
He sighed, “Good thinking. Now, let’s get it over with.”
Hanster’s face shone up in a smile, as she scooped up some of the porridge with the oversized wooden spoon she brought, “If you say so, master! Say ahhhhh!”
They fed him the portion, one spoonful at a time.

By the time they got to the third spoon, who should show up if not Madam Lungal herself.
“Well, well.” She smirked, “What happened here?”
“...You know darn well what happened.” He spat, as the dog girls gave him another spoon.”
“Now, whatever could that mean?” She hid her mouth behind her palm, “If I were to hazard a guess, though… I’d say you were the victim of a prank most devious.”
Mr Qwadeur swallowed, “...Prank?”
“Oh, yes. Prank. In fact, I’d say one that far surpasses even what you pulled off against Madamf Contoulis. Wouldn’t you say?”

…Pranking the prankster. Of course. From the start she was aiming at nothing but the top.
“...You knew from the start. You knew we were monitoring you.”
Madam Lungal snickered, “Oh, but Mr Qwadeur… You don’t honestly suggest I would be unable to tell your craftsmanship when I see it?”
“So everything that happened… All of it was according to your design?” Mr Qwadeur asked.
Madam Lungal nodded with a smirk, “But of course. I know you never settle for anything but perfection. So I merely had to ask, what would the perfect plan to thwart myself look like? And then, it was all a matter of planning according to that.”

“Now hold on a minute!” Mr Qwadeur cried, “There's one thing you couldn't possibly have known! We're rivals! Enemies for life! For all you knew I had every reason to leave you to your devives!”
“Oh, but I was quite certain you wouldn’t do that.” Madam Lungal answered.
“And why, prey tell, is that?”
Madam Lungal knelt in front Mr Qwadeur, looked deep into his eyes and stroked his hair.

“Why, that’s simple.” She stated, “It’s because you are in love with me.”
Mr Qwadeur sputtered, “Don’t be absurd! I’m not in love with you… Am I?”
“Yeah, master…” Voger declared, “You totally are.”
Hanster nodded, “Uh huh. It’s so obvious. Almost painful to watch.”
“And because you are the last person who would realize that, pulling you along with my plan was as plain as milk.” She bopped his nose and stood up.

“Huh… “ His confused expression slowly turned into a smile. The first genuine smile of joy and affection he had displayed in years, “So… What about you? Are you in love with me?”
She smiled back, “Oh, but Ogden, my dear friend… Do you really think I would trap you in a predicament like that if I wasn’t?”
“Ohhh! She’s feisty!” Voger squealed.
“Will you be together now? The two of you would just make the most adorable couple!” Hanster cried, her tail wagging in tandem with her sister’s.
“Uhhh… I guess I don’t have a choice now.” He responded, “What do you say, Cindy?”
“What do I say?” She asked as she knelt towards him once again, “I think the time for words is over.”
And she pulled him into a deep and passionate kiss.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is but one unlikely story of love and passion out of countless that occurs everyday in Cependia, the most romantic city in all of the world.