"Barnabas, Angel-butt. Angel-butt, puppy," A handprint pressed against the puppy's rump, making him squirm away to jog in a circle.
Delirium watched the paint run over her chest, still grinning like a fool. "Clean, I think. At least a little. The floor is sticky," Which she was sitting in, come to think, making her squirm in the puddle of paint.