Lime Wars

Nobody knows who dun it, though some might well have their suspicions, but on returning from crafter activities one fine summer afternoon, dolphineer Tanit will find her room barricaded by a pair of overgrown potted lime trees. What's worse is, if she manages to get the heavy clay pots out of in front of her door, she'll find just. Limes. Hidden everywhere. Under her pillows. In her drawers. On her nightstand. In her firelizard's nest. You thought you had candles? No. No candles. Only limes.


The door knob sticks the next time you go to your office. You think nothing of it right? A forceful tug reveals so much more, however. Lime green yarn, creates a web of terror over every surface, Around four potted lime trees, over the desk chairs - everything. The scissors and knives? All tied up at the back of the room. Were you expecting actual limes? They are there, hung in just about every one of countless lime green speedos. The term banana hammock no longer applies. Even more amusing are the lime derived products strewn everywhere, Is that lime flavored oil? Sunscreen, Soap? Liquor? Someone must have made good use of ALL DEM LIMES. And of course, there's a lime green music box at the center. The crank triggered when the door opened.


One would THINK, given the elaborate nature of the previous prank, that Phase Two of the great ~LimeWars of 2714 would be some huge, grandiose plot of Rube Goldberg proportions but you'd be wrong. Pranks occur, after all, but once it's cleaned up, it's over with.

A living, breathing testament to the act? Now that lasts… oh, you know, about a decade. You're welcome, Tanit.

Because phase two is a tiny little hairball, smol and white and grumpy of face, surly-looking even in youth. She is death on four legs, as likely to clobber you in your damn sleep as she is to curl up on your lap and take a nap right when you're about to get up to pee. She ~knows~ these things, and isn't afraid to inconvenience you with what is either her eternal love or undying hatred as often as inhumanly possible. A small, wooden nametag reading 'Lime' is hung on a vivid green ribbon, the reason for her name clear - though often baleful, her eyes are of the exact same color, nearly luminescent in their brilliant verdance.


It happens late in the afternoon after drills and the business of the day are tended to. No one is fessing up to just who flew the damn thing up, and no one else seems to be willing to confess to anything else. Still, despite the atrocious eye-blinding color, the instrument is of impeccable quality.

The white keys are mother of pearl, polished and gleaming with an inner shine, and the black keys carved from polished obsidian. It has three pedals rather than two, polished brass. The felt hammers the strings, all the internal mechanisms are well crafted. Aside from the eye-bleeding blend of neon yellow and lime green it truly is an instrument of quality. The back board only spared the monstrous hue to preserve the quality of the sound.

Oh yes, the sound - Every string is horrifically out of tune, as much a product of new strings stretching slowly as it is part of the prank's design. Included in the Lime green quilted velvet bench are the tools to correct this problem of course. The upholstered bag also lime green velvet with tiny goldfish embroidered over it, is sure to hold the keys to the salvation of her ears to judge from the feel of the tools through the fabric a complete tuning kit. The only thing standing in the way is a special lock, letters instead of numbers, of which there are four distinct spaces.

Forget the assault to your ears that may take ages to correct if you can't quite figure out the trick of the combination lock, the assault to the eyes is worse. For what musician worth his salt (and tired of late night flights to the nearest piano with small fussy infants at all unseemly hours of the day and night) Would ever dispatch with such a high quality (if utterly hideous) instrument?


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