Ryuzaki nodded once and set the puzzle piece next to its brother on the nightstand. Light craned his neck to look. The two would fit together.
There was something reassuring about the way that puzzle pieces did that—the way they slotted right in with those around them, they way they belonged with the others.
He wondered briefly when the marmosets would come. They were crucial to his plan, and their loyalty had proved unwavering during the Cute Woodland Creatures War. But now, a new possibility worried him. Suppose that the marmosets didn’t like people with vaguely Japanese names? Once they realized his, would they turn on their former master with their tiny yet vicious fangs and claws? Ryuzaki hoped not. No power on Earth could match the ferocity of a fully-enraged marmoset, not even robo-Hitler on crack.
The marmosets arrived, marching through the doggie door with ephemeral grace. The lead marmoset, Captain Snuggle, stood at attention.
“We bring tidings of a new war, human,” he squeaked, “The likes of which even you cannot imagine.”
...yeah. Funny, yes. But it also just kind of hurts.
And now my mom's off again about how great a writer my brother is, how funny his writing is, and how much he always makes her want to read his work.