"I yield, eh, I really do, eh!" Cried the fair maid-girl in a short-skirted uniform, while desperately trying to hide from tickles which fell upon her from the other maid-girl with the macaroni-like black hair.
"Guess what? I don't care, ha-ha, you deserve some punishment!" - exclaimed macaroni head cheerfully.
"Stop your silly games at once, and start working already!" - shouted high-pitched man's voice.
"Yes, Mister Cubic..." Macaroni head stopped her "punishing" activity and looked at her fair friend, waiting.
"What?"
The macaroni head tilted her astonishing macaroni head pointing at the source of the angry sound.
"Oh! Yeah, Mister Cubic, sorry, eh!"
Then the maid-girl gang of two disappeared in the light of a corridor, giggling.
Mister Cubic sighted like he was bearing a burden of the whole world problems on his shoulders and then continued to dust a diamond chandelier.
Mister Cubic was a man of many talents in... cleaning. He was the head of the cleaning department in the castle. He could see a tiny bit of dust from at least one hundred kilometres away... He said that, and no one ever tried him. I bet he really can, though.
Mister Cubic's features were rather... cubicle, I'd say. Well, how ironic... His head was square, everything on it - too, his body was square... So he looked somewhat very strong and muscular and manly, and he was all of that, but his voice... Well, I still find it beautiful.
The dusting process was still on when the King showed up in a ball room.
He looked concerned, and his eyes bore that milky steamy veil of foreseeing.
"I..." Started he uncertainly. "I need to talk with you Tamara."
He looked at me, well he called my name after all, what was I expecting?
"Yes, my lord. Did you saw something about me in your dreams? Did I, perhaps, broke a vase or something, or maybe broke myself in some places?" Asked I calmly. It is kind of a daily routine for all of the castle. Our King is a foreseer, he dreams, sometimes while he sleeps, sometimes while he is not. The dreams consist of many particals, the broken mirror alike. He often dreams about me, because I am... let's say... Not particularly healthy person.
"No, you did not. But, I believe, that you should serve on the ball." He was stunned by these words. But he continued: "I mean, to serve as one of the main guests' private servant." He stopped, analyzing the information inside his head: "Vampires."
"Excuse me, my lord?"
"You will serve the Vampire Consulate."