Jareth pinched the bridge of his nose. Bloody. Accountants. They were everywhere in his labyrinth. Just the time he managed to get rid of one, another would come crashing through.
He sighed. This clearly had to do with her, but he wasn’t sure how. He also wasn’t sure he had enough proof to blame her in order to ultimately demand restitution. Lovely, lovely restitution.
However it was grounds enough for a visit to the mortal realm.
Jareth materialized majestically in a shower of glitter that spread throughout Sarah’s apartment living room. It would have been extremely awe-inspiring if he hadn’t been immediately pelted in the face by a chicken.
“You! I knew this was you!” Sarah yelled over a cacophony of clucking.
“This was not--” Jareth yelled, before deciding that yelling was ridiculous and banished the chickens.
“Thank you. I guess. Although I shouldn’t have to thank you for something you did to begin with.”
“As I started to say over the poultry pandemonium, I had nothing to do with it.”
“Sarah, clearly you have been wronged. Now I personally am not admitting any wrongdoing--”
“--but might I interest you in, say, some restitution?”
