Yes, the Beast has now been in my home. How was he lured? With slabs of charred meat, of course.
Before they arrived, we cop-proofed the house (similar to child-proofing–lock the cabinets, put sharp objects out of reach, etc.).
His handler, Cinderella Sam, brought him by after dark, so he couldn’t see the tree in the back from that last frightening adventure. The cage car was parked on the street rather than in my driveway–I suppose because they thought they were only staying for a few minutes, the more fool them.
Once dragged inside the house, he kept looking up at the ceiling, fearing a net would drop down and trap him. Actually, I had put the nets away because we didn’t expect our guests to arrive so late. (If the nets aren’t taken down and cleaned regularly, they collect spiderwebs. Nick was once stalked by a rabid spider which had to be shot, so it wasn’t worth risking a traumatic flashback.)
After throwing pork steaks in his general direction, and tossing small pink cupcakes for dessert, he grabbed my jar of chocolate chips, dragged them into the corner, and growled when approached. To distract him, I grabbed the nearest thing to hand–a tube of lip balm–and held it up. “Look! It’s purple!” He raised his head, eyes gleaming, and I grabbed the candy jar back before he could bite me. Then he gathered himself for a spring, so–distraction is so important!–I rolled the lip balm toward him, and he snapped it up at once and swallowed it. “It’s vanilla-flavored! Do you have a chocolate one?”
“No more chocolate for you,” I said hastily. “Let’s tour the house, shall we?”
He sniffed all around my office–the computer particularly fascinated him. “Is this where your stories come from?” I was afraid he would try to mark it in some manner, but, being a neat and cleanly beast, he contented himself with trying to look behind the screen to find the stories.
The bedroom was next. He was so excited to see my bed that he leaped up on it and began chasing his tail, and getting the sheets all rucked up, until Sam finally made him get down. I’m glad she did. I don’t know what we would have done if he’d decided to curl up on it.
There are some additional details, involving, well, apple ale, and a spider that tried to sit on my lap and made me hide behind Nick until Rom had killed it, but I’m leaving those out, because it’s my party and I’ll selectively edit what I want to.
I developed quite the headache before bedtime. When I told Nick about it the next day, he said, “People often get withdrawals after I leave.” As Saki said about a bratty child, I should like to spank him forever, stopping, of course, at mealtimes.