The Almost Report's Attempts to Groom are Already Doomed

[Wyvern]

The news cameras slowly fade into the familiar vibrant colors and accessories of CheerMynx’s bedroom HQ. The Almost Intern’s quarters have been cleaned up considerably since last week’s almost a test of almost a test report, with only a few stray items standing out as oddities. An Almost Dragonic Brand Viking Recliner™ rests on the end of the room opposite CheerMynx’s bed, its comfortable-looking grey cushions and pillowed armrests desperately trying to hide the wooden catapult base of the chair. On a small counter next to the chair is a tidy arrangement of three combs, consisting of an Almost Dragonic Brand Leftover Scimitar Hair Curler™, an Almost Dragonic Brand Stripe-Enhancing Fairy Fur-Paint Brush™ and an Almost Dragonic Brand Hairball Removal Tongue Comb.™ Various shades of orange fur conditioner are sorted on a rack next to the combs, and a hot pink bottle of Bruteweiser Special Volcanic Mix rests on a night stand adjacent to CheerMynx’s bed. The rest of the room looks exceptionally clean and well-arranged, with the exception of the enormous pile of rejected chairs, combs, and empty booze bottles lazily crammed into the far right-hand corner of the room.

 

“Greetingsss, welcome to the Almost (not a test) Report.” Wyvern hisses as he rolls out from under the Almost Dragonic Brand Viking Recliner™, nearly setting off one of the chair’s more barbaric functions with his tail stinger. “55% more Almossst Intern friendly this episssode and fully prepared for CheerMynx’s return. None of this has been tesssted, of course, or even almost tested for that matter, but I figure my almost dragonic intuition has served me well in the past and there’ssss no reason it shouldn’t sssserve me well now… right?”

 

Wyvern strikes a nervous grin as the bottle of Bruteweiser Special Volcanic Mix begins trembling on its night stand, fizzing at the tip on its own despite being corked. The reptilian reporter raises a claw to the wreaths of leaves tied around his horns as he scampers over to the bottle to fix the problem, sticking his tongue out to not let any of the alcoholic fizz go to waste. The gray roman masseuse toga that Wyvern wears gets dribbled upon in the process, the potency of the Bruteweiser beverage eating through a bit of the delicate fabric and ruining some of the curving hand designs that wrap around the edges of the garment.

 

“Anyhow *slurp,* in current Pen news-” Wyvern cringes as a few of the rejected CheerMynx-friendly objects topple over with a clatter, the tall stack wobbling uneasily. “Err, in current Pen news-”

 

Wyvern’s eyes dart over to the Almost Dragonic Brand Viking Recliner™ as the twanging sound of springs popping loose is heard. He stammers as the fairy tied to the Almost Dragonic Brand Stripe-Enhancing Fairy Fur-Paint Brush™ works its way out of the rubber bands keeping it down. He turns to capture it, only to be distracted by the shouts of the troglyodytes trying to keep the teetering stack of rejected objects upright.

 

“Errr, in current Pen newssss. Happy belated birthday Kasmandre, by the way. In current Pen newsss…” Wyvern flinches and raises his claws defensively as the cork of the Bruteweiser Special Volcanic Mix finally pops off. It hits the ceiling as the alcohol begins frothing forth onto the counter. “Uhhh…”

 

Wyvern narrowly avoids being clobbered by the escaped fairy, who has somehow managed to pick up the Almost Dragonic Brand Leftover Scimitar Hair Curler™ and put it to violent use. The fairy crash lands as the weight of the scimitar proves to be too much for its tiny body, and it skids across the floor before tumbling under CheerMynx’s bed. Wyvern shakes his eyes away from the carnage and sets about thinking up excuses, not noticing the familiar figure standing at the door.

[CheerMynx]

"Wyvie?"

Startled, Wyvern spun around to find CheerMynx standing in the doorway, frowning in confusion at the carnage. The cheerline was hefting a rather large stack of books, folders, and loose note paper in front of her. The pile was so tall that CheerMynx's outfit couldn't be seen, giving the impression that the Almost Intern wasn't actually wearing anything.

 

"Is this, like, a toga party?" CheerMynx's gaze had finally come to rest on Wyvern's attire. "Cos, like, if you'd said something I could have helped with...um...the decorations?" CheerMynx trailed off as she noticed the troglyodytes that were still struggling with the rejected items.

 

"Okay. Like, what's going on here?"

Wyvern coughed to clear his throat and tried to draw the cheerline's gaze away from the increasing carnage.

"Well...you sssee CheerMynx we decided to...er...tessst some...uh...hey what's with all those books?" The Almost Dragon smiled broadly in a weak attempt to distract CheerMynx from her questioning.

 

"Oh, like, you know how I was at that presentation conference thingy last week for the dolls? Yeah, they totally loved it and they're willing to like produce a totally bigger range of outfits so I've like got to go through all these fashion books and totally start designing more outfits!" The cheerline grinned excitedly.

 

"Well hey! Why don't we get you to the library to ssstart work on that and I can make sssure that everything here's tidied up!" Wyvern leapt forward eagerly at the chance to get CheerMynx out of the room before she saw the true extent of all the damage (and also to see if he could figure out what she was wearing from the side or back).

 

The idea to offer to carry the books himself was only beginning to dawn on Wyvern as the fairy crawled back out from under CheerMynx's bed. Finding the scimitar once again, the fairy grabbed it by the handle and put all its weight into swinging it up. After a brief struggle, the scimitar threw itself into the air, dragging the fairy with it as it crashed into CheerMynx and Wyvern, knocking them both over in a deluge of books and paper.

[Wyvern]

Wyvern grunts and rubs a claw over his aching head, brushing a few of the scattered wreath leaves from his scales and blinking at the pile of books and folders in front of him. The overgrown lizard grumbles and stretches one of his wings, shifting himself upright as he assumes for a moment that he'd once again fallen asleep in the midst of evaluating tax evasion techniques. He picks up the first folder in front of him and flips through it glumly, only to slowly go wide-eyed as the pages act like a flip book for the design of a rather revealing 40 piece dance outfit. Wyvern snaps the folder shut and tosses it aside, immediately picking up the next book within reach, which is entitled "Leg-Oh!s: Pant Designing for Dolls (and Manufactured Dolls)." He glances over the cover curiously before noticing the striped leg that the removal of the book has uncovered, his eyes growing wider still over the newfound fur. The overgrown lizard's tongue rolls loose as he suddenly recalls the current situation, his joints stiffening up as he realizes that CheerMynx is laying in front of him under the various books. The spread of notes and literature has fallen in a way that still covers any outfit that the Almost Intern might or might not be wearing, leaving Wyvern's curiousity bubbling at its peak.

 

"Ow." CheerMynx's moan catches Wyvern's attention as the Almost Intern's arms surface from a couple of books on gloves, immediately moving to her hair as her pretty nose twitches. "Like, Wyvie? Could you help me out of here?"

 

Wyvern slowly nods, his eyes going cross-eyed for a moment over the bulging stack of notes that seemed to have landed around CheerMynx's chest... though something told him that the shape had little to do with paper. The reptilian reporter stifles a giddy cheer as the prospect of helping CheerMynx free herself and uncovering her outfit (or lack thereof) firsthand dawns upon him. He flashes a toothy grin and nods vigorously to CheerMynx's request, ignoring the distressed cries of the troglyodytes in charge of rejected objects in the background.

 

"Oh, definitely yessss!" Wyvern clears his throat and licks his lips, trying to keep his calm as he speaks. "*ahem* That is, r-r-right away CheerMynxie. It'sss my duty after all."

 

Wyvern bites his lip in anticipation as he reaches for the next book within reach, sliding it off and revealing a generous amount of furred thigh with still not even the remotest sign of an outfit to be found. He verges on sobbing with joy as he moves his claws further up the mess to a set of empty folders on "Pantie Designs," his imagination running wild as he slowly begins tilting it up to see if...

 

"Look ooouuuuuttt!"

 

Wyvern jerks his head in the direction of the cry just as the avalanche of rejected chairs and booze bottles comes tumbling down upon him, burying the lizard while his position ends up effectively preventing CheerMynx from any harm...