Work Text:
The blank wall in front of Cindy held nothing but endless possibilities, but all she could see was a great swath of nothingness, like the Pale.
"Come oooon!" the diminuitive woman cried. "Why can't I think of something! Why so silent? You wouldn't shut up last night when I was trying to sleep."
A bitter wind ruffled the fur of the Skull woman's coat. IT MAY HAVE SOMETHING TO DO WITH YOUR CALLING ME "REVAFAIL."
"Aw, come on. You know I didn't mean it."
I KNOW NOTHING OF THE SORT.
"I was tired and wanted to sleep. And you! You kept feeding me a million ideas, a million things to paint, a million facets of you! Of course, I can't remember any of them NOW."
SERVES YOU RIGHT.
If Cindy didn't know any better, she would have sworn La Revacholière was sticking her tongue out, taunting her.
"Fine," she sighed. "I'm sorry. I... you're not fail. You've been a part of me since before I can remember. I've been drawing for you since I could pick up a crayon."
I ACCEPT YOUR APOLOGY.
And a vision of a great mushroom cloud appeared to Cindy the Skull, bidding her to paint.