Chapter Four: Prancing Prancel

Pet felt his head spin. He crouched to pick it up and reattatch it to his headless body. "Now."

"Now?" asked the menace.

"Yes," conceded Squibbles. He was wearing a circular tie.

"I don't like you," admitted Pet and stomped on a nearby vending machine. Several striped cans stampeded over Squibbles.

"I'll be a bacon and ham sandwich, what did you just do?" gasped the menace. Squibbles already disintegrated.

"I- I-..." stuttered Pet, until he realised that he was wearing a dress. "What?"

"I hope you're happy." The menace was indignant. "You've triggered that there paradox."

"Can it weave?" asked Pet suspiciously.

"Sure can. That's what caused your improper attire."

"That is of no importance to me," concluded Pet audibly. "I am the bearer of cheap cleaning detergents."

"Bravo!" bravoed a man on a unicycle. "I have been looking for you, Pet."

"How did you know I like eggs?" said Pet, whilst pointing to a paper plane on the floor. It turned and vroomed gleefully.

"Because I collect margins," said the man deliberately.

"I'm a menace!" menaced the menace menacingly. He was also bordering on a state, but mostly he was a bit jealous. "We do not need cycling lunatics to find it-uh!"

The unicycle man cringed, but recovered remarkably well for someone so short-sighted. "It-uh, huh?"

Pet scratched an itch. It said, "Thank you. A little to the ear, if you don't mind." Minding, Pet reassured himself that his collar was not melting.

"There are some things best left to prance," stated the man and fetched prancing Prancel.

~