Mustard of Doom

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One Void Day, Count Bleck was standing all alone in the meeting room, reading the Dark Prognosticus with a furrowed eyebrow. He had been trying to get some peace the whole morning, and at last he began to get relaxed. But the second he started to actually get absorbed in the words, Mr. L burst into the room with a clang, making the sound reverberate off the walls. Count Bleck jolted, and then looked at Mr. L with an evil-eye.

"This had better be good! Count Bleck is at his boiling point," Count Bleck growled.

"You bought the spicy mustard, and we like the mild kind!" Mr. L said, waving a hot dog above his head.

Count Bleck sighed and pinched the bridge of his nonexistent nose. Then he pointed toward the door and said, "Leave."

Mr. L turned and left. He seemed like he had gotten a reasonable answer from the count.

In the kitchen, Mimi was dying on the floor because the spicy mustard was killing her.

"My gastrointestinal organs are on fire!" Dimentio shouted.

"You could just say STOMACH, Mr. Fancyvocabulary," Mr. L said, walking into the room. He began wiping the mustard off of his hot dog, although it was difficult to keep the wet napkin bits off.

"You need to mollify your convictions, dude," Dimentio replied. "They're a bit superfluous."

Nobody bothered listening to him. Instead, they writhed around on the floor and searched the cabinets for mild mustard. Nastasia sat at the table and calmly ate. She didn't really mind spicy mustard, and didn't get why the minions couldn't just go mustard-less.

Eventually she said, "Why don't you guys just go to the store and buy some more mustard? I think it'll be best for all of us, 'k?"

Everyone stopped dying and got up. "Oh yeah, good idea," Mimi said. Then they teleported out in their various ways, except for Mr. L, who couldn't really teleport, so he just left the kitchen.

At the mart, Dimentio and Mimi got there at the same time, so they both rushed to the mustard aisle. But they were completely flabbergasted to find that there was no more mild mustard in stock.

Mimi began to walk through the store in a pouty manner. "Hang in there, tummy, it's going to be a long day," she mumbled.

Just then, she and Dimentio ran into Mr. L, who was holding a bag. "Look, I got the last mild mustard on the shelf!" he said, waving it in their faces.

"AARGH! I could murder some people, send them to the Underwhere, kill the Count, destroy all worlds, and make new ones in my image right now!" Dimentio yelled.

"Uh-huh," Mr. L said slowly. "I think what you mean to say is thank you."

"Thank you?!?!?" Dimentio sputtered; these words weren't in his vocabulary.

"You're welcome!" Mr. L said brightly.

"What?! I wasn't—I would never---why would I--," Dimentio sputtered a million contrary statements.

"Whatever," Mr. L finally ended his speech and turned to head out of the mart.

Back home, everyone had a delicious lunch. In the middle of it, Count Bleck walked in, looking very bedraggled from reading the Dark Prognosticus so much. Every little noise seemed to be ten times louder to him, even Nastasia squirting out the last of the spicy mustard and Mimi scooting in her chair. He sat down and grabbed a hot dog.

"Here's the mild mustard, Count!" Mimi said, passing it to him. "It took us some agony to find it!"

"Thanks, but Count Bleck prefers spicy mustard," he replied.

Everyone's jaw dropped as they looked at the empty spicy mustard bottle.

"Yeah, uh, I gotta go steal Mimi's diary or something," Dimentio said. "Ciao!"

Everyone else fled the room too.

"COUNT BLECK WANTS SPICY MUSTARD!" he yelled.

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