A few minutes later, Amdusias was bound to a chair placed precariously on top of the tactical map table. He had a gag in his mouth, but he looked remarkably cheerful for a hostage.
Marchosias glared at the captive, both hands on the map, his claws digging holes into the wood. "If you tell anyone that the Avatar is a virgin, I will rip off your horn and you will be the Demon Horse of Music."
Amdusias chewed through his gag with a wet crunch and spat it onto the map. "I just came here to remind your pathetic warband that the Ball is only a week away! The Princes will be most upset if you losers are a no-show again. Attendance is not optional."
"Yeah, I'm not going," Andras drawled, flicking ash onto the floor.
"We are fighting a war," March barked. "As if we have time to waste on pageantry and appearances."
"Oh, I forgot about the Ball!" Nock declared, his eyes lighting up. "I only brought thirty going-out outfits!" He looked around frantically. "What is the theme this year?"
"I would rather not be at a party," Bune's Left Head said, shuddering.
The Right Head nodded vigorously. "That idiot Valac tried to ride me three hundred and eighty-four years ago. Do you know how embarrassing that was?"
Skarg crossed his arms, looking disgusted. "Fuck dress codes. Balls are for ditsy bitches who can't get fucked. 'Oh, who has my glass slipper? Oh, people don't know who I am if I have a little mask on a stick! Oh, look at the rich asshole who slowly walks down the big staircase in some faggy silk outfit while everyone watches!'" The wendigo demon shuddered. "So performative."
"Is it a tribute to ritualistic murder this year?" Nock asked, seemingly ignoring Skarg entirely. "Or is that next year? Oh, I have the perfect black robes and golden mask to wear."
"Please no," Bune whimpered, clutching his stomach. "If I was forced to wear a golden mask..." The dragon man looked a bit sick.
"There are going to be other demons at a big party?" Zac asked, perking up. "That sounds like the perfect chance for me to get defiled by some side character who can get murdered by Captain Daddy without anyone really caring about them dying."
"NO," March growled. "If the Princes want a progress report, they can schedule an audience with me. Officially. That's why we have an agenda and a guest log. Isn't that right, Halphas?"
"A week will be plenty of time for me to send Timon and Pumbaa out to have a new outfit commissioned," Nock mused, rubbing his chin and ignoring March completely. "I must maintain my position as most fashionable feline. Vine keeps a list, you know, and I am at the top of it despite Vapula's desperate attempts. Everybody wants to be a cat, and all cats want to be me."
Andras chuckled. "Of course Vine keeps a list of queer kitties."
"Wait," March growled, looking around. "Where is Halphas?"
"Yeah," Skarg laughed, "that puss still thinks he's a king. There's no way Purson would keep some lame list of-"
"LORD FURFUR!"
The bickering in the room went dead silent as the doors slammed open. Everyone turned to see who had burst in.
Zac's brain struggled to process what he saw.
A very cute, very chubby baby otter with leathery bat wings was hovering in the doorway. It flapped its wings comically hard to keep afloat, its little paws paddling the air.
"LORD FURFUR!" it yelled again in a very squeaky and adorable voice.
The color drained from Skarg's face. A sudden, sharp chill filled the room as demonic ice began to spread across the floor from the wendigo's feet.
"The stained glass wings have appeared again!" the woodland critter cried. "It's on the battlefront near the Jordan River, Lord Furfur! It's heading this-"
Skarg suddenly grabbed the cute little flying otter baby by the neck and began to choke it. "MY NAME IS SKARG!" he bellowed right into its face, his spit flying. He shook the otter violently as he throttled it.
"Hey, leave the cute little animal alone!" Zac said, rising to his feet and pointing a finger. "Animal abuse is not sexy at all!"
The room went silent, save for the squeaking gasps of the little water pup. Then, all the demons burst into laughter. Zac looked around, confused. Even Amdusias was giggling.
"That's not an animal," Bune's Left Head said, a hand in front of his mouth trying to hide his own grin. "It is a demonic Cherub."
His Right Head snorted. "It is one of Furfur, I mean Skarg's, legion."
"That cute little thing is one of your soldiers?" Zac questioned. "I thought you'd have an abominable snowman or like, a horde of Krampuses or something."
The demonic music once again vamped as the prisoner unicorn on the table looked to the ceiling and opened his mouth.
"After the boring date, and its time to defer
But you've found across the table is an amateur
If you find yourself in a state of longueur
It might be time, to summon Furfur!"
"SHUT UP YOU!" Skarg bellowed.
"Like a Viagra he will help spur
Your lover, even though the liqueur!
Oh he will be your smashing chauffeur
The Demon of Love, his name is Furfur!"
"I'M WARNING YOU!" Ice radiated from Skarg, and the room went instantly cold.
Zac looked over at the total macho deer demon. "Wait, Demon of Love? I thought he was the demon of ice or something." His brow furrowed.
"If you cant get any from him or her
There's just one demon who you should confer
His fiery tail, I mean hart, for sure
He is passion's saboteur, his name is Furfur!"
"SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!" Skarg put his hands over his ears and ran out of the room. He didn't run out through the door, though; he ran right through the nearest wall, Kool-Aid Man style, leaving a huge pile of rubble and dust in his wake.
Bune sighed. "Why does everyone think it's okay to punch holes in the drywall?"
"The plaster always stains so terribly," his Right Head lamented.
Zac looked back up at Amdusias. The unicorn man was now standing and bowing, having somehow freed himself from captivity through the sheer power of song.