**How Basil Found a Woman Who Cost Him Nothing. He Wasnt Pleased.**
“You see, Ive tried dating apps so many times, but its just exhausting,” Basil sighed. “Women expect you to message them, keep them entertained, type until your fingers ache, listen to their tedious little problems If there was a way to skip all that, Id be eternally grateful! Couldnt she just pick *me*? No small talk, no memorising *FHM* jokes, no pretending to be clever?”
“Absolutely!” The figurea wisp of acrid grey smokeshrugged. “You *did* summon me, after all. Might as well go all in.”
“Brilliant. Now, add thisIm not spending a penny on her. Not a quid. No overpriced coffee dates, no my treat cupcakes that might not even pay off. No ironing shirts, no sucking in my gut, no performing like some circus act. Straight to her place. Possible?”
The smoky being conjured a notepad and pen, jotting it down with the efficiency of a waiter taking a lunch order. “Anything else?”
“Well obviously, no material demands. No iPhones, no diamonds, no designer handbags. I mean, Ive never bought any, but blokes at the pub complain. Just pure, selfless lovelike those chill European girls, or Filipinas. Abroad, women work while men lounge, and nobody bats an eye. Here? Ugh, hes leeching off her. Lets avoid *that*.”
“Consider it done!” The creature waved a smoky hand. “But Basil, youre aiming *low*. You couldve just gone to a pub in Croydon for this. Youve got *demon magic*why not dream bigger?”
“Fine, fine! Shes got to be domestic,” Basil counted off. “Cooking, cleaning, fussing over mebut *never* expecting me to lift a finger. No nagging, just constant adoration. And *absolutely* no kidseveryone knows women want them, but I *dont*. Thats it.”
“Modest, as ever,” the smoke sighed. “But really, no preferences on looks? Plenty of women fit your descriptionjust, yknow, older and well, *homely*. Youd rather a uni student, yeah?”
“Yes! A uni student!” Basil nearly leapt. Tall, gorgeous, slim, skin like peaches. But kind, tender-heartednot like these modern girls, all sharp edges and demands.
“Oh, I *know* the type,” the creature said. For a second, Basil thought it smirkedthough how smoke smirks, he couldnt say. Didnt matter. Soon, *shed* find *him*, whisk him home, and
Basil squeezed his eyes shut in bliss. Then*thud*. He woke in a crumpled heap on some frozen backstreet bin, a sausage wrapper and fish skeleton beside him. His ribs ached. Everything loomed strangely large. And thenlaughter. Sweet, girlish, ringing like wind chimes.
“Amelia, look! Poor little thingsome stray mustve bullied him. Im taking him home! Ill pamper him, cuddle him, feed him proper!”
“Youve *too* soft a heart, Alice,” came a sharper voice. “What if he yowls all night? Or starts chasing after lady cats?”
“He wont! Ill get him neutered. Come here, sweetie”
Delicate hands scooped him up. Basil tried to shout. What came out was a pathetic *meow*.
