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No, she’s not. It was an accident.

Accidents happen all the time, just like now, when mice are running out of nowhere (actually, they've dug their way from the burrows in the thin layer of snow) in an ambush no one was bright enough to foresee—not even the whole team of biochemists loaned to them by Everhard Sildenafil Pharmaceutical Corporations. Perhaps there should be a team of lawyers too, just to complete this whole brain-mash mix. Too bad that the top attorneys charge quite a high rate per hour: it wouldn’t be a good investment at all to hire all those brains just for their brawn.

The Armice, or at least the rodent ranks of it, swarm up all around them. In front of her, as far as Lily’s green eyes could see, they litter the place. Her sweet boy yells his usual shocked “motherfucker” and turns back to her.

“You’re alright, pretty girl?” he yells over the squeaks.

“How could I be?”

“Well, I suppose not.”

Lily Lester Lector hisses at a mouse climbing her shoe. It is not at all like the battle scene she had in mind, which involved a stage, the mouse king in some gold-inlaid uniform, and her folks fighting them while dancing ballet. “Every, you’re the fucking CEO. Do something.”

Her love interest, Every, is a master of many arts and crafts, a learner of a thousand subjects. But this isn’t one of them.

“I forgot my anti-pest spray at home.”

“We’re fucked big-time,” she screams this time, her shrill, Y/N of a voice scaring away all the mice starting to pile up around her.

It is like that one recurring bad dream she used to have as a child—traumatized from living in her insect-filled home—wherein creepy crawlies would swarm all over her. Except that this time, it isn’t a dream no more.

But an extensively fucked reality.

Then Every, the rich young man, thinks, his brain verging on turning into a lightbulb and overheating like all lightbulbs tend to do. “Wait, why don’t I just shift into a dragon and fly away?”

Lily brightens up, all while dodging a mouse pouncing her way. “Oh, yeah, why didn’t you think of that, my man?”

“I’m not the brightest bulb.”

In the blink of Lily’s viridian eyes, her cute boyfriend becomes a vivid vermillion dragon. His body grows like an oversized earthworm, getting longer and harder and darker, until he fully becomes a Chinese mythical creature, somehow.

Lily hops onto his back, away from the swarms of rodents, and a scientist nearby gawks at them, his jaw hanging open so wide that a mouse might have jumped in.

Buddy, you are still surprised after all this?

Lily hollers down at the mice as she hovers in the sky, holding tight onto her man’s scaly back. “All ’em hoes can fuck off.”

Ho, ho, ho.

Then the dragon that is her boyfriend swoops down from high in the sky, and comes rolling over the ground like a baseball-game-sausage frying on a grill. It sends Lily falling, of course, and all the mice folk scattering away with the impact, burrowing back into whatever hollow cylinder of a hiding hole they came from.

They squeak.

And Lily does so too, having been thrown off the dragon’s back, sacrificed to take down the mice. Her skin must be all dirty now, coated in soil and grass which are actually sweet because that’s just how everything is in this sugar-land. But it was worth it.

Damn right it was.

But not really.

A familiar theme song plays, one with loud drums and screeches.

Oh shit, not this bastard again.

Lily stands up from the ground. All the mice may be gone now, thanks to her, a virgin sacrifice to stop these micro-sized monsters, but their generals aren’t. She tries to look over the shoulders of the warriors and non-warriors in front of her to see what the heck is going on, but since she is such a petite little human being, she only sees their back muscles flexing.

Still not as cut and lean as her man, Every, though.

She may not be able to see the front, but she sure knows that theme song well.