Hex scanned the road ahead, his all-seeing eye taking in every blade of glass and speck of dirt. At last, he found his prey. Pluck!

  The rose joined the pile already atop Globert’s bag. The clump of flowers was so large I was certain he was using his telekinesis to prop it up. “Roses are red, violets are blue…”, he sang. “Um… something something, I love you”.

  I would’ve made fun of his ‘poem’, if I hadn’t seen him exhaust every rhyme known to man first. Should he ever attempt to write down all of his renditions, the tree logging industry would report record growth.

  “Hex, she’s not interested”, Phoebe stated. “She hasn’t even come out since we started walking. Didn’t you ever hear ‘no means no’?”. Indeed, Globert was currently wrapping herself in the bag like we were trekking through the south pole.

  “I’ve only been courting her for a few days”, Hex blinked. “That’s no time at all”.

  Phoebe was about to argue the point when we saw a pair of travellers circling around us warily. After giving us a wide birth they walked backwards, keeping their eyes on us. “…In any case, can’t you assume a less intimidating form? I’m sure that would aid your lovemaking attempts, Mr. Floating Eyeball of Doom”.

  “Phoebe, how could you?!”, I interceded. “Having a terrifying visage is the pride and joy of every undead critter!”. “Thank you, Count Boogula”. “I mean sure, it’s tacky beyond all belief, but that doesn’t mean you can just ask him to change it on a whim!”.

  “…TACKY?!!”, Hex roared. “You think you’re scary, huh?! You little runt! You pint-sized upstart! Just because you figured out my spell, you’re all high and mighty?!”.

  “What was that?!”, I retorted. “Sorry if I disrespected my oh-so-great elders! I just couldn’t help but notice the glaring lack of talent, Sensei Edgelord! And you dare to claim credit for my spell yet again, you THIEF?!!!”.

  “Oh, it is ON!! I challenge you to a duel, you snivelling newborn!”, his voice blasted into my face. “Unless you’re already late for class at the local diploma mill! Well, ‘Count’ Boogula?!”.

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  “You should’ve kept mumbling into your oatmeal, grandpa!”, I blasted right back. “This is the weakest opposition I’ve faced since Greg had the runs!”.

  We stared each other down, our burning rage serving as the backdrop. This wasn’t like our little playfights with Hex before. No, this was SERIOUS.

  Phoebe sighed, disrupting our dramatic face-off. For Hex’s sake I went cross-eyed to give her a look of disapproval. Ow. It hurt, but there was no helping it with two critical tasks before me.

  “Hmph. I see you have your pride, if nothing else”, Hex acknowledged. “The next traveller we come across shall be yours to scare. After that?”, his eye narrowed. “My turn”.

  “You know the rules. Scores out of ten”, my gaze remained locked on him. “And don’t even try slyly mentioning my score to your victim…”. He scoffed, as if to say that such simple ploys were beneath him. A wicked grin lit up my face, more devilish than Jingle Jack. The trauma from Hex’s defeat would send him straight back into a century of remedial classes.

  “7/10”, I hummed giddily an hour later. “7/10! Seven, seven, seven! What was my score again? Guess! Guess what! 7/10! Feel like giving up yet, ol’ Hexy?”.

  He eyed me. Strange, he almost looked… unimpressed? Nah, the shock must’ve just rendered him catatonic. Every half-baked scheme and halfer-unbaked scare that led up to this point must’ve been flashing before his eye. Time to give the old guy a break.

  “Well, I guess you didn’t completely fail”, Hex stated the obvious in a desperate attempt to shore up his confidence. Still, feigning courage in the face of utter defeat was commendable. He was a true soldier. Maybe he could still muster up a 4/10.

  “…Ish not poshible…”, I sobbed and floated alongside Phoebe. “It… it jusht can’t be… uwah!”.

  She sighed. “There, there, Count Boogula. You did the very best you could. If you could just calm down…”, her voice slowly rose in irritation at the end. “…It’s been a full half hour now…”.

  “…No! There’sh no way! Nobody getsh perfect score! Nobody!”. “Yes, yes…”. “He got 10/10! Howish that, Phoebe?!”. “Yes, I heard you the first time…”.

  “Cheer up, Count Boogula!”, the certain cheater floated beside me. “You have great talent! …Just a little more practice, and I’m sure you could do the same!”.

  My tears stopped for a second. “Really…?”. Hex glanced to the side. “Yes… of course! With the right definition of ‘a little more practice’, at least”.

  “But my 214 year streak… waaah!”, I burst back into noble tears.

  …Hex was the most annoying traveller in our party, of course. I just wanted to clarify that in case there was any confusion. Not that there would be.