A series of drabbles featuring the most mysterious girl in Amphibia.
This wasn't written as part of the Marcy Week thing, but it made me laugh, so I'm keeping it here anyway.
Marcy stood atop the ruined bridge, the storm whirling and crackling around her. She held the Calamity Box aloft, almost as an affront to the heavens. She cackled, and cackled, and cackled, her voice echoing, mixing with the crashing of thunder, in a terrible display of victory.
Sprig blinked. And turned to face the girl who had buried her face in her palm.
“Anne, you have terrible taste in friends.”
“That’s fair.”
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