Simon and Elvira

This is an extremely short story about a couple of characters I came up with, Simon is my absolute favorite. The only really necessary context is that Simon is a magical talking fisher, which is a large rodent that resembles a cross between a cat, a dog and an otter. Here, have some weird random fantasy writing;

           “Okay, which dress?” Elvira came out of the bathroom wearing a soft lavender evening gown that complimented the slightly reddish tone to her dark skin. She held up the blue dress as comparison for her familiar, a lanky little fisher with a lot to say. He had orangey-brown fur and quizzical eyes with a large snout ending in a leathery black nose.

“Hmm. Tough decision. I think maybe you should go with the obvious choice and just not show up,” Simon sarcastically mused from his usual lazy position on the pillow in front of the fireplace. The cushion he so carelessly couched upon was the most lavish thing you could possibly buy for a sassy fisher such a one as Simon, all paisley velvet and golden tassel. He flopped onto his back and looked at her with his rich, dark brown eyes and a condescendingly knowledgeable expression.

           “I am not taking advice from a rodent,” Elvira retorted, thoroughly finished with all of Simon’s quote unquote “helpful life-lessons”. With Simon, too many crazy things that wouldn't happen to normal humans unless they had a magical fisher to order them around had occurred, like hunting squirrels or trying to convince a certain talking rodent to not dig a hole to live in for the winter. All Elvira wanted was to fit in.
“Well if we’re going to do it that way, then I won’t help a witch choose dress to wear to her terrible date.”

“It’s warlock, not witch, you know that. Besides, Carl is a fine person. He’s just had some bad luck in his past,” Thea reasoned.

“If by bad luck you mean intentional theft, sure,” Simon chortled to himself.

“You know what, Simon, you’ve never been on a date yourself, and therefore have no right to tell me that Carl isn’t good enough,” Elvira huffily remarked. She was fed up with Simon’s attitude and sense of entitlement.

           “For one, his name is Carl,” he judgmentally scoffed, rolling back onto his belly. He was obviously enjoying tormenting Elvira about her latest boyfriend. He was also thoroughly pleased with his fluffy pillow.

           Elvira rolled her eyes and said something snappy about not judging books by their covers and how Carl didn’t pick his name as she grabbed her purse and coat on her way out the door.

           “You didn’t let me finish,” Simon yelled after her.

           “I don’t need any more of your advice,” she hollered back.

           “I was going to say that no one is good enough for you,” Simon mumbled unhappily. Elvira had a terrible history of bad dates, and nothing was keeping Carl from being another.

“What struggles,” Simon scoffed as he snuggled deeper into the massive pillow, happy to be anything but human.