'Good, good. A great team effort, I'd say.' [And the voice grew more and more distant, until Ben could no longer hear it at all. Like his own subconscious voice had returned, which implied that the conversation internally wasn't with the same voice.] [... Scary.]

'She'd be the woman of your dreams, more so than she is now. All the Chili you could EVER WANT. . .~!' [The voice cackles maniacally.] 'So, what's stopping you from putting research into this~? What's stopping you, those pesky Kids Next Door or your stray cat of a daughter? Make it happen.'

'If you make it a dazzling ring, who's to say she'd NEVER take it off? Perhaps it CAN'T be taken off. And once the transformation has taken place, why WOULD she~?' [A dark chuckle.] 'Exactly. All adults have such malice roaring in their hearts. She's just got hers tamed to a point of dormancy.'

[An inner monologue cuts through his regular thinking like butter.] 'How about a ring that slowly warps her into a villainess? Her disobedience and friendly nature would simply disappear as the ring brings out her more adult impulses?' [What the fuck is that thought.]

[BURSTS INTO FLAMES.] WHO HAS BEEN USING MY CREDIT CARD!?

[He's about to pick up his paper again, when he realizes they're speaking again, and...not dismissing. He raises a brow.] What. What are you expecting? [He takes a moment to think, is there something he's missing???] Are you-- waiting for me to scold you? Because, well, I won't. Other than ++

𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 . . . ▋ [■■■■■■■■■■] 100% 𝚜𝚞𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝: 𝚔𝚞𝚔𝚒 𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚋𝚊𝚗 ▪ 𝚗𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚞𝚑 𝟹 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚟 ▪

[The man takes the frames, examining them with care.] I'm surprised they've lasted even this long. . . I'll order you a new pair in a moment. [Pulling his phone from the crook between the chair's cushion and the arm of the chair. He's mumbling as he tries to read the tiny carved text in the ++

[Father is reading his newspaper, a coffee mug sat on the side table of his favorite planning chair. As he hears the door open, he gets ready to apprehend and punish Gretchen, but-- when his Delightfuls come in, he presses the anger down into his gut.] ++

[Working on a new scheme. . . several crumpled pieces of blueprint paper surround his desk.]

[Reading the newspaper.]

[Of course, scanning each and every one of his adopted children... lastly, landing on Constance. He stares at her for a LONG time, before turning back to Gretchen.] She's right. IT'S YOU! [Whirling around, Father GRABS Constance.] Your eyes aren't that delightful blue, you have been straying ++

[Cranking it to a warm temperature, he offers a sigh and rubs the small of his back with his hand. Ugh. He slept horribly last night... He stretches, popping his back and he groans. Before returning to his planning chair.]

[True. All they have to do is make him angry. . . He's fidgeting with the thermostat...]

YES, GRETCHEN. PLEASE GO CHANGE, OR I WILL BE VERY VERY DISPLEASED AND EVEN ANGRY. [He's clutching his fork and knife with the utmost strength, and it's even starting to heat the metal of the utensils. Though... he does realize something's off.] [Slow turn to the delightfuls, thunder ++

...Cold today. [Walking to the thermostat. Why even have one of those, when he's a walking heater???]

Gretchen, go upstairs and dress CORRECTLY. Now. [The majority rules, the steam growing even more thick and plentiful. Father doesn't want to play games. He wants to eat.]

[He is already in so much agony and rage. He shoots a glare to Gretchen, and then... reluctantly, looking to the Delightfuls he's taken under a villainous wing.] Gretchen. What is the meaning of your garb? You look most displeasing to me. [He's eerily calm, but there is a little bit of steam ++

. . . Good. I am pleased to know you accomplished your mission. Please do go dry off and make yourself presentable again, Constance. Then, meet at the table. [He stands from his chair, and hustles his evil ass into the dining room, sitting at the head of the table. He seems a little less ++

... Seems Constance is home with Gretchen.

Love is in the air? Wrong, SMOKE INHALATION! [FWOOOOOOOSH!]

AND /I/ didn't wake up this morning expecting to make you into a funeral pyre, but HERE WE ARE! ! ! [FWOOOOOOSH.]

[SCREW AROUND AND FIND OUT, BRAT.]

Alright then. Now, shoo. I have to make sure those idiots didn't give me the wrong model. [He marches off, his behavior there at least a LITTLE more normal, what with the "shoo".]

[BUT CAN SHE WIN IN A PHYSICAL BATTLE? I MEAN, HE COULD MELT THOSE SILLY 2X4 TECH WEAPONS!]

[RUBBING HIS TEMPLES TO BLOW UP NUMBUH 1 AND NUMBUH 362 WITH HIS MIND EVEN HARDER.]

[He stares down at her, emotions unreadable. He doesn't snap, nor does he snark at her.] Your father is fine, Constance. He's just. . . got some personal business to take care of. The package is apart of the next scheme to take down that pesky Kids Next Door, when I am further along with the ++

I need you to go find Gretchen. I do not know of her current hunger, but she should be here, after all. It's our once-monthly dinner time with her. [He pulls out what he was looking for, the keys to a new death machine.] If you do not know how to operate it on your own, ask your ++

[Unluckily for Constance, the delivery sits unpoached by pesky kids on the porch of their castle-like home. He picks it up with a sigh of happiness.] Well well well. . . this will quell some worries. Once I set it up. [He turns himself around, carrying a medium, unidentifiable package under ++

[Passing her. He seems... warmer than usual, the heat coming off of him was a little overwhelming, and he wasn't even fully combusting.] Hello, Constance. [Grumbled, as he goes to get the mail.]

[Trying to blow up Nigel with his mind.]

𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 . . . ▋ [■■■■■■■■■■] 100% 𝚜𝚞𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝: 𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚕 𝚝. 𝚖𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚗𝚣𝚒𝚎 ▪ 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚍 ▪

“sʜᴇ ɪs ᴀ 𝙏𝙍𝙐𝙀 𝙁𝙄𝙂𝙃𝙏𝙀𝙍, ⠀⠀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ sᴇᴇ ɪᴛ ɪɴ ʜᴇʀ 𝙀𝙔𝙀𝙎. sʜᴇ ᴡᴀsɴ’ᴛ 𝘽𝙊𝙍𝙉 sᴛʀᴏɴɢ, ⠀⠀⠀ sʜᴇ ᴡᴀs 𝙈𝘼𝘿𝙀 sᴛʀᴏɴɢ“ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ 𝙆𝙉𝘿. ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ sᴇᴄᴛᴏʀ ᴢ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ɴᴜᴍʙᴜʜ 0.5 ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀♡ & ⟳

[Tapping away on his armchair. Impatient. He has a special delivery coming in. Where was it? It's been HOURS. He's growing more heated by the second.]

I AM MOST DISSATISFIED. . . (Literate FATHER, C:KND RP account.) (MVRP / MS with chem.) (N/SFW, non-l*wd) (Scribbled by Shiloh/G.) #MVRP // #KNDRP // #CARTOONRP // #KIDSNEXTDOORRP // #SFWRP // #VILLAINRP