Midway upon their journey through Lyf (claimed to be the most barbarous section of the nation) Holo and Lawrence convened a calamitous conundrum.
A wheel upon their cart, which bore their weight with double compense, due to poor maintenance, resigned itself to its end under its burden, most taxing.
Began Holo "Doubtless, this was spurred of your volition. Notwithstanding my finding sit upon this cart, I, the exalted Holo of Yoitsu, the ill cloud that showers your fortune, was fain to bind me to your woe in conjunction."
As doth a jester when his act fails him, and appeases not his auspice, Lawrence found defense in sycophanthy "Tis' but a broken wheel knocking upon the door (death's), tis' this and nothing more."
The stay upon road's margin provoked the ire of Holo, her impatience concerning the traveling clown waxed adamantly, as did his mounting litany of deficiencies, as doth a moon strives ascent to meet rest at sky's apex.
"See its locum, lest we adorn this road as does remora, upon the dorsal of a malignant beast" spurred Holo.
To which the fool requited "With haste, master, inclined I am to consider that performing contrariwise would cause me to, awaken to find I, Lawrence, transformed into a hideous cockroach, to accent appropriately, my personality and wit.
Holo, unable to bear the shriek of his effeminate vociferations, as so bitter they were, death was but little more, motivated Lawrence haste by introducing his hindquarters with her virile boot.
Idleness stoked Holo's dishevelment, her fatigue drew skyward, till the cargo of her cup flowed'eth over, and animated her will.
Despite its tending the cart, as one considers a child tending carpentry actual carpentry, Holo instigated his return to her by a prescribed snapping of fingers.
His return sought not to hasten itself, his sloth burdensome, for they were well acquainted. This noted by Holo, she deposed herself from the cart and approached him in a gait most commanding.
Seizing the clown's lapels in her grasp, eke she forced his knees buckle, so that they eye to eye were, she started "I am not fond of caning you for thine lack of win, but I shall do so if your saunter becomes not more complementary to my will."
To which the coward meekly replied "I beseech thee, oust thine beak from out my heart, for, Holo, it seems I am slightly enamored with you, but too meek, I am, to advance, my emotion underarm. I resolve myself to light remark, which could only serve to imperceptibly cleave one's requite of love. I am a man who lies beneath his quilt, seeks not a full committed charge, for my nature warrants not such acts of masculinity."
Holo, incensed at his brutal honesty, as well as the usual "soft heartedness" he exhibited, was driven to scornful speech "You foolish fool of a mien most foolish" Alighting a hand from his lapel she reared it back in a fashion a snake coils, prepared to deliver her opinion upon his face.
Lawrence, desperately, "Please, your omnipotence, have mercy, for I find myself so charmingly befuddled at your constant verbal besting of me. I've not a commanding, or for that matter, good, character about me, but certain I am that it is compensated by my cute and meek tread and my importunity therein?"
A scowl, the likes of which overtakes a displeased god, who aims to wrath his recalcitrant people, flooded over Holo's visage. "If it need be, that I am to reiterate this aphorism anew, upon your ears as well as your gaunt face, you will embrace the true wrath that I resolve not to grant you, simply because you are my ride home."
The tension within her poised arm crashed upon his face as doth a hammer on a pitiable nail. Lawrence noted the crash felt more educational than usual.
Holo exclaimed "GET"
Another salvo met his face; she continued to teach him his lesson "ON"
A percussion thrice now, a clap resonated the capacious atmosphere "MY"
She absolved him from his final blow as she noticed a pitiful, gyrating flinch roosting upon his face. Seeking in the stead of a blow, she determined that she could adroitly convene him with enlightenment in another fashion. Her arms clutched his lapels anew, the arms contracted, nose to nose now, they were.
A grave, venomous declaration, almost a whisper, as she reared her seething red eyes upon his, fangs bared, "…level."
At that, she loosed her fingers and he plummeted in his footing, swooned away as if he were dying, both hands seeking reprieve of his newly reddened face. Holo's shoulders spun, she swaggered back to meet sit in the cart, she needed both seats to accommodate her massive amount of swag.
Lying there upon the seats, stretched, reposing her head upon her hands, she pondered many a thing. In doing so, the smile grew abreast her thoughts till too wide for her face.
In this fashion, it would be made clear to all relevant audiences, that none partake of the literature, manga, or animated series of the adventures of these two because Lawrence strikes them as a finer character. No, the locus was, is, and always shall be, the massive amount of win that Holo exhumes.
Realizing this, Holo bit an apple with alacrity, and let out a relieved sigh.
"Yes, yes, it's all true"