Clash of the Muses
by Arty

"That's another fine mess you've got me into!" said Arty in
Hardyesque tones.

Frank had the decency to look sheepish.

"I don't know what trouble you've been getting into with
your muse, but leave mine out of it. OK?"

Frank nodded.

With that thought off his chest, Arty made his way towards
Friday with great trepidation; at least this time it wasn't
all, or even any, of his fault. 'Yeah, right', he told
himself with heavy irony. 'Like that'll make *all* the
difference.'

As he approached she turned to face him; he knew it was a
cliche, but she looked absolutely stupendous, when she was
mad. Before she had a chance to say anything he grabbed her
in a hug and started to stroke her hair and shoulders. She
sighed and snuggled closer.

"You can resign from the council if you wish, but you don't
get away from me that easily my girl." He did nothing to
restrain the tears that the thought of life without Friday
evoked. "No, that's not right; of course I won't stop you if
you really want to leave, but if you go, don't forget
there'll always be a Friday-shaped place in my heart."

She looked up and kissed away his tears. "Oh all right, you
big softy. Just go easy for a bit will ya!"

Arty smiled broadly. "Great! I won't have to send back the
bear suit after all!"

Then his smile faded as he saw the form of a large purple
dinosaur heading his way ...

-Fin-

Arty
(Crossing his fingers!)