One Get out of Jail Card Later

Together we stood in front of the Duke's Jailhouse.
"So this is it?" Ismie asks.
"Yep," Me, ever prolific.
"It looks dirty." 
"You've never been here?"
"Nope." I am not the only one.
"I just figured that- since you frequent that Inn..."
"Remember who you are talking to," Ismie says, big wink, hip nudge.
"Ah," I mock slap my forehead. "The Witch."
"Damn Skippy." Ismie says as she turns, taps one perfect finger against her lovely lips looking thoughtful.
"Nice."
"Thanks," I try.
"Shall we go in?" Ismie says as she waves her other hand and the doors open wide.



On the inside, we encounter the Duke's guards. They leer at us. 
I try leering back. It doesn't work. Apparently, you have to be a swarthy, mostly unwashed man to leer.
"Hey!"
"What?"
"That's hardly fair!" One guard declares, "I bathe often enough."
"How many times is often?" I ask sweetly.
"3 or 4 times a week."
"Ewww." 
"No matter," Ismie says to them. "We are here to fetch the prisoners."
"Oh you are, are you?" The beefiest one says as he steps forward, planting his large fists on his hips.
"Yes," Ismie says cocking her own hip out before settling her right hand on it.
"Well, You will have to pay all their fines." The man says.
"Nope," Ismie says.
"Yep," I add, not really knowing what else to say.
Ismie looks at me.
"Sorry," I add, blushing, "forgot my lines."
"Tut, tut," Ismie says, "Practice makes perfect."
"Hey!" A short man pushes past the large swarthy- decidedly unwashed man with the large hands. "What's-"
"I told you I bathe!" The Gaurd says throwing up a finger to point at me.
"Shaddup!" The shorter man yells in the guard's face... well, he yells up at the man's face.
"Look!" The shorter man says turning to face me. "I am not that short."
Ismie and I look down at him.
"You two are unnaturally tall!" he adds.
Ismie and I look down at him.
"There's a fine and you have to pay it or else!" He says.
"Or else what?" Ismie looks down at him.
"You two bimbos can take a hike before we toss you in with the other vermin."
Someone in the cells behind the guards starts yelling "I knew you were the rat!"

"Did you just call me a Bimbo, you little toad?" Ismie says softly, although the way she says it might as well have been a banshee scream.
"Yes, I did," The Shorter man says and gives me two fingers.
Ismie looks at him for a moment then turns him into a toad.
The large swarthy guard screams in terror.
"I am not screaming!" the screaming guard yells at me.
"Why is everything so big?" says the toad. "Oh, nuts."