The Magician's Assistant

"Great work, Emily!" Alan kept up his charm offensive. "I don't remember those mirrors ever looking so crepuscular!" He beamed with satisfaction, inordinately proud of his word choice. All those nights staying up late with the dictionary had paid off.

"Crepuscular?" Emily frowned. "But doesn't that mean shadowy, Mr. Jackson?"

Alan's smile sagged.

"It means shiny," he said, gruffly. "I'm sure of it."

"If you say so, Mr. Jackson. Only I'd hate to think I was using the word wrong. Or that I didn't clean the mirrors properly."

The little minx! She was making fun of him! There was nothing wrong with his choice of words, at all. Alan's eyes almost popped out of his head at the thought of it. He knew his vocabulary was perfectly fatuous.

"You'd better butter up on your language skills if you want to fit in here, Emily," he said, already thinking about how he was going to make her pay for teasing him. "Clear communication is important."

"Yes, Mr. Jackson."

"Try to be less percipient next time," said Alan, nodding as a thought occured to him. Yes, that would be the perfect job for clever little Emily. "Anyway, can you head over to Sideshow Alley? I believe our magician needs a new assistant."

"Right away, Mr. Jackson."