Sentencing!

The ride home had been interesting. Laharl insisted on shotgun. She claimed it was her right as Overlord. Etna went along with it, mostly so she could sit in the back with Flonne and gossip. I knew that's what they were doing from all the giggling and whispering.

Laharl had taken to using her scarf to cover her bare breasts. Whether she was cold, attempting to hide them from her own line of sight, or having an attack of feminine modesty, I couldn't say. It was still around her neck, it just stretched out to wrap around her upper torso as well.

Arriving at home, I suddenly found my living room transformed into an absurdly large court room. I was in the jury box with Flonne, who seemed confused about the change, but willing to go along with it. Laharal stood in front of the gigantic judge's bench, a spotlight on her.

Etna popped up from behind the podium, wearing a black robe and white wig. "You have been accused of stealing rare pudding from your goregous and semi-loyal vassal! How do you plea?" Etna said, holding her gavel with whitening knuckles.

Laharl stomped her foot, hair stalks...the only name that suited them...standing straight up on her head. "My vassal means my pudding! It's that simple!" she shouted. Etna didn't seem to hear, looking at me with a flirting smile and toying with the gavel. I gestured to Laharl.

"Huh? Oh, right!" Etna said, snapping back into character. "I'll take that outburst as a claim of GUILTY! Jury, what do you feel is the proper sentence for this...FILTH!" I sighed. "Etna, the jury is the one who decides whether or not the person is guilty, not the one who..." I began before Etna pounded the gavel. "No logic in court! Make with the sentencing!" she shouted.

Hmm...I could make it embarrassing...or flat out cruel...frankly, I could do anything. So...what to do with poor Laharl-chan?