“Behave yourself today,” whispered Britina for the hundred and twenty-first time.

“I will,” whined Prunhiline as she pulled on the collar of her shirt. “This shirt itches; why couldn’t I wear my armor?”

“Because this is a birthday party. You don’t wear armor to a birthday party,” Britina repeated for the hundred and fiftieth time.

“We do,” the warrior frowned, wishing she were attending a plains-person’s birthday party.

“Yes, dear love, and you also say it’s not a party unless someone cracks a few ribs.” Britina worried because she knew she’d have to visit Prunhiline’s village at some point. She had only had her ribs broken once, during a robbery, an incident she’d rather not remember. (But that, dear reader, is a story for another day.)

The guards escorting Britina and Prunhiline to the party smirked but remained silent. None of them wanted to give the warrior a reason to be angry. They were elite, not stupid; the tall warrior was the best they had ever met.

Britina glanced at the six guards. She had assured the council there wouldn’t be another incident like the last two times Prunhiline visited the university. Still, she was required to be escorted by armed guards.

Upon arriving at the chambers, the guards positioned themselves on either side of the door, prepared to act when an incident occurred, never if. Britina made one last attempt to straighten the warrior’s shirt and pants before stepping inside.

“Prunhiline!” The grand wizard announced.

“Old fart!” Prunhiline bellowed, drowning out the quiet conversations between scholars, wizards, and noblemen. She rushed over to the elderly man, scooping him up in a massive bear hug.

One of the noblemen, Duke Something-or-Other, marched over to Britina. “Why did you bring HER here?” he hissed.

Britina stared the noblemen in the eyes and waited. The sounds of Prunhiline howling with laughter and the elder grand wizard's crackle of a laugh echoed through the chamber. One of them had told a dirty joke. It was always a competition between the two, who could tell the dirtiest jokes.

“The grand wizard enjoys her company,” Britina said in her most polite voice. “It is his birthday, and he specifically invited her. Please, by all means, inform the grand wizard that you would like her to leave.” Britina smiled, but it wasn’t a pleasant smile.

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The grand wizard adored Prunhiline, which is why she was still allowed back at the university, even after she accidentally unleashed a demon horde or the time she shattered all the stained glass windows. (But of course, those are stories for another day.) Britina didn’t blame the warrior for the last incident. It truly wasn’t her fault; Britina had warned the wizards not to feed her.

A noblewoman was next to express her dislike to Britina. She, too, was turned away with the same suggestion. This should not have been a problem, except this one took Britina up on her offer. It amazed Britina how someone could walk arrogantly and not knock over any of the tables, but the noblewoman had much practice on how to swagger.

The noblewoman stood before the grand wizard and the warrior and grandly stated for everyone to hear, “I would be glad, grand wizard, to escort this THING from your party.”

Britina didn’t hear all of the conversations, but she did hear the word “bosom” from the grand wizard and “bouncy” from Prunhiline before they lost themselves in childish laughter. The crimson color radiating from the noblewoman’s cheeks showed she didn’t appreciate the humor. Britina smiled at their antics.

“I NEVER!” Shouted the embarrassed and enraged noblewoman as she turned and stormed away.

“With your knees locked like that, I bet you haven’t.” Britina wasn’t sure which of the two said it.

The comment didn’t settle well for the enraged woman. As she turned to confront the two miscreants, she wasn’t paying attention to where she was swinging her elbows. And this is how it all started.

Britina watched as the cake lifted from the plate, soaring gracefully. With all the space and people in the chamber, the chances of it hitting the wrong target were slim. And that, from experience, meant it would definitely hit the grand wizard.

The crimson radiating the woman’s cheeks quickly retreated, becoming a pale horror hue. Everyone watched as the icing dripped from the grand wizard’s long nose. Prunhiline’s laugh echoed throughout the chamber.

“So, that is how it will be.” He stated as he conjured multiple cakes, launching them at the noblewoman. Locked knees or not, she was quick enough to duck, letting the cakes fly over her and into more of the guests.

Prunhiline roared a battle cry: “FOOD FIGHT!” The war erupted, the warrior, wizards, and scholars on one side, noblemen and noblewomen on the other. After half an hour, the pastry casualties mounted, and the gallant fighters began to tire.

Britina stepped into the middle of the chamber and announced, “The food fight is over.” She was clean and untouched by any icing. Like every year she and Prunhiline had been attending the grand wizard's birthday, Britina was prepared with her magic shield.

The laughter started on one side and then found a hold on the other. Soon, the whole chamber was filled with laughing, snorting, and giggling. Everyone always had a good time at the grand wizard’s birthday party.

Britina examined Prunhiline and the grand wizard. They were covered in icing, ice cream, and many other sweets. She could see them smiling like children, even covered with all the sugary goodness.

“Time to go, dear love.” Britina smiled.

“Aw, but we wanna play some more.” Prunhiline and the grand wizard said together.

“Another day, but now you need to bathe,” Britina said sternly.

With looks of horror from both the warrior and the grand wizard, they whine. “But I already took a bath this week!”

The grand wizard adored Prunhiline because, at heart, they were the same; they thrived on chaos.