Momus turned to face his assailant with a sigh. "Oh. It's you. What a pleasant surprise."
Contrary to popular belief, Momus didn't hate his opposite. Nobody with an ounce of compassion could possibly hate Eupheme; it would be like hating a puppy dog. Oh, you cursed at it when it shat on the carpet or tore apart the living room, and you glared and grumbled and wondered how any living being could possibly be so full of excitement all the time - but look into those bright little eyes and you could never honestly summon up any genuine dislike for the little son of a bitch.
And Eupheme was not an unlikeable person; quite the opposite, in fact. She was warm and kind-hearted, always eager to help, always the first and the most effusive in singing the praises of others. With Eupheme, there was no accomplishment too minor, no situation without a positive. She was a living, breathing Pollyanna. Always look on the bright side of life! The glass isn't only half-full, it contains magical lemonade! Real people weren't like that. It annoyed the hell out of him.
"Me," he said, without enthusiasm, "I'm fantastic. Super duper. How about you?"