"Who ate my yoghurt? It had my name on it!" Glitter Purple asked dangerously, casting dark looks at Green.
"Look, for the last time, I didn't eat your disgusting yoghurt." Green sighed. "I'm allergic to pineapple, bitch."
A flustered Pink jumped in, like she always did. "Girls, don't fight! Please! We're teammates!" And then she made things worse, like she always did. "I'm sure Green didn't mean to eat your stinky dessert."
Both Purple and Green rounded on Pink, and started to yell at her instead.
"Red, help me! Please!" Pink whined, like she always did.
Red didn't react. She was in the bathroom.
Quiet.
Pensive.
She'd just finished a much needed shower after that last fight, but when she'd taken her laundry out of the dryer, she'd found a very unexpected surprise. She twirled it around her fingers as she tried to work things out.
This was not one of her g-strings, nor was it any of the other girls'. For one, it was the wrong colour. Also, she wasn't sure the others even had any, and they definitely weren't part of their uniform. But most importantly, she vividly remembered seeing it before. During a fight. On the opposition. What was her name? The hot one.
There was only one thing to do here, really.
The leader of the Glitter Angels nodded to herself. Went and got some paper. Wrote something on it. Neatly folded the lacy scrap of black cloth inside. Hid it on a shelf.
She wondered how long it would take to get an answer...
Whose thong is this I think I know,
I glimpsed it many moons ago
In twirling martial trash-talk prattle,
While versus evil we did battle.
I do not know how it got here,
Its presence rousing feelings queer.
Mere laundry fuckup insufficient
To wave away this fact, I fear.
It's nestled twixt your wicked cheeks—
It's not my lingerie to keep,
Plus you're some kind of evil creep,
Plus you're some kind of evil creep.
