Pastel Strawberry

"I only need to finish the sleeves and hem the raw edges. I will only take ten minutes or less to finish it." Hunter explained while laying down the diminutive, incomplete garment on the sewing machine.

"You told me that hours ago," Flapjack remarked with annoyance. He tapped his twig-like foot on the table; since he weighed less than a pound, the result was unsurprisingly underwhelming: "I want it now." He stated this, dragging the last syllable.

"I'm sorry, I had more important tasks to accomplish," Hunter argued, raising his head.

"I'm not the most important thing in your life." Flapjack gasped loudly, sounding utterly betrayed by his best friend. "Et tu, Brute?"

"You're completely aware of what I'm trying to inform you." Hunter disputed this, being highly unimpressed by Flapjack's theatrics.

"The gall, the nerve, the audacity." Flapjack placed the back of his wing against his forehead. "You're being so mean to me, Hunter. So mean to the charming, destitute little Flapjack and his poor, fragile, despairing heart. I shall leave and never return."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you're telling me." Hunter waved his hand dismissively.

Flapjack challenges the spirit of his presumed past life as a theater actor and faints with all the drama it entails.

"You have three more; you can use one of them." Hunter reminded him, leveling the most exhausted stare he could muster at the bird.

"But I don't want any of those; I want this one." Flapjack rejected the offer as soon as it arrived.

"Perhaps I shouldn't give you any of them anymore since you keep behaving like that," Hunter announced, stroking his chin and looking at the ceiling. Flapjack knew it was an empty threat; Hunter could deny anything this harmless to his friend, even if he was irritating from time to time. "You don't even need them."

"But, Hunter, I need them." Flapjack lied blatantly. He flew over the sewing machine arm. His eyes turned as big as plates and as shiny as a lake hit directly by sunlight. He made the most accurate imitation of puppy eyes that a bird made of wood could put together. Hunter averted his gaze at the transparent yet persuasive attempt at manipulation.

"Alright, alright, everything for your most esteemed and beloved Highness." Hunter addressed Flapjack with sarcastic deference. With the same dramatics, Hunter stood up, put a hand on his stomach and another on his back, and bowed. The whole show was actually as amusing to him as his palisman. He attempted to hold his laugh back, but he started to giggle, breaking the act. Hunter grinned at Flapjack and stated fondly, "Be grateful you're so adorable."

"I am!" Flapjack exclaimed shamelessly. He flew towards Hunter's hair, perching himself on it.

"I can't believe I'm letting myself be bullied by a pesky bird a hundredth my size." Hunter expressed faux irritation. He threw his right hand in the air in an exaggerated and theatrical manner.

In response, Flapjack trod carefully on Hunter's head and offered bright, enthusiastic chirps. Before that conversation could resume, Luz opened the door with as much subtlety as a bulldozer. She scampered down the stairs, jumping down the last flight expertly. She darted forward, stopped in front of them, and clapped the table.

"Guys, guys, you wouldn't believe what Gus and I found." Luz started to announce with a great deal of enthusiasm, waving her left hand and beaming. Her sentence trailed off when her eyes were set on a newer, more noticeable item on the sewing machine's bed.