“You haven’t fired it yet? So it might blow up on us?” Harley queried. Then she grinned maniacally. “I like the way you think. I hate it when it takes forever to do something because people have to test and plan and plot and piddle around. Let’s just get right to the good stuff. This is gonna be fun!”
Then she turned and bellowed, in a voice that could bend metal, that she needed her pop gun. NOW. There was a bit of scrambling as some servant or other ran to get it for her. Harley could get really used to that. Somebody to run and fetch for her, rather than her doing all the fetching. Not that she didn’t love making her Puddin’ happy, but sometimes it might be nice if he hired some goons that could actually do something instead of leaving all the work for her.
And she wasn’t even gonna start to wonder why he wasn’t here to play king with her. That’d ruin the enjoyment of the moment, with the castle and the servants and the Countess and the making things go boom.
“So it needs to hit something to explode, so we need a target right?” Peering down over the side of the balcony on which they stood, Harl looked for a likely victim. “I think the drawbridge is too far away. And then people couldn’t bring me more presents. How ‘bout a tree?”