me: Oh! Our time together is short! What shall we do? Proceed to the underworld and torment my relatives? Attend a dance parlour so terribly exclusive only we are allowed inside? Play Alice in Wonderland croquet, complete with hedgehogs substituted for balls? A grand combination of all of the above?

Viktor V. Vexworth: Our time together at the moment is short.

me: I can see it now - "Demonia: Ballet of the Underworld, as Inspired by Hedgehog Croquet."

Viktor V. Vexworth: YES.

me: And that correction was a good one to make.
And I take it by your YES that we ought to create "Demonia"?

Viktor V. Vexworth: INDEED.

me: Ooh! So where shall we start? Combining the ballet with the croquet, or the croquet with the underworld?
I think it would be easiest to start by combining just two things.

Viktor V. Vexworth.: The croquet ballet, as that nearly rhymes.
Croquet ballet with valets and in a chalet.
In a Malay chalet.
Or possibly near Calais.

me: Very well. That is easy enough to picture. We shall simply use the croquet mallets as batons, only they have an actual use in this instance, as we use them to pelt the hedgehogs across the croquet playing-fields...
And the valets...oh, what shall the valets do, precisely?

Viktor V. Vexworth: Park our cars? Park our bookshop? Whatever it is valets do.
I apologise to them, but it is not their fault their names rhyme with everything they are doing. They have to be here. The laws of linguistic amusements dictate it.

me: But of course, whatever pleases you! Shall we think of things that rhyme with "underworld" as well, for our further advancements of Demonia?

Viktor V. Vexworth: THUNDERBIRD
IDK
Munderchirld
Gunderthurld

me: THUNDERBIRDS CAN BE INCORPORATED TOO, IF YOU WISH, THOUGH THEY DO NOT REALLY RHYME.

Viktor V. Vexworth: WELL THEY'RE THE ONLY THING THAT RHYMES THAT IS AN ACTUAL WORD
SO
UM
PLUNDERFURLED
I DON'T EVEN KNOW.

me: Plunderfurled! That sounds like it ought to be a game term for when you've accidentally allowed a rabid hedgehog to be incorporated in the game, and you've just pelted said hedgehog at an enemy's face.

Viktor V. Vexworth: 'Dash it, Lord Slattery! You've got me plunderfurled again, you sly scoundrel!'
'Now you shall have to buy me a new nose!'

me: Ah, does this mean we shall have to keep scores of physicians around whenever we play this game? D:
You know, for rabies shots?

Viktor V. Vexworth: That may actually be wise.
Only they should be doctors well versed in the rules of lawnsports.
That way they can be valuable team-members as opposed to languishing on the sidelines in boredom, eating all the concessions.
We can make them wear dodgy little cricket sweaters.

me: Or actually, this is a ballet! Good lord, can you imagine the scandal our Demonia shall produce? Ballet conoisseurs, team members, and casual by-standers alike shall all be forced to get rabies shots upon entering. What ever will they think of that?!

Viktor V. Vexworth: Or if they do not wish to have a large syringe jammed into their jugular veins, they must sign six waivers in triplicate and sit behind three inch thick bulletproof glass.

me: ....because a rabid hedgehog could chew its way through two-inch thick bulletproof glass? :3
I'm a pennypincher, I know, I know.

Viktor V. Vexworth: Two and a half inch thick!
It must be at least over that.

me: Two and a quarter inches.
Oh fine.
Two and a half, but only because you worry yourself too much over the commonfolk, dear.
+harrumphs in a corner+

Viktor V. Vexworth: I just do not wish to wake up one morning and be unable to leave my bed due to the stacks of angry letters from rabid balletgoers.

me: And you think that rabid balletgoers would have suitable state of mind for writing such letters?! Well, I suppose in the early stages, certainly...but in the later stages, I doubt we should scarcely need to worry about them being angry at all! XD

Viktor V. Vexworth: We shall need to invest in chains and cages, I suppose.

me: Unless...
We wished to unleash an army of rabid balletgoers upon a metropolis of our choosing, with the aim to conquer it?

Viktor V. Vexworth: Ah, now I like your mind, Melanie m'dear . . .

me: See? Thanks to you, I've become devious. All thanks to you.

Viktor V. Vexworth: Instead of rabies vaccinations, the hypodermics shall be full of subservience-tonic!

me: But I shall still admit I could plot no such thing against you. But that's only one weakness, right?