En route to the kitchen to stow the milk, Steve and Steph caught a whiff of pepperoni. Suddenly reminded about the pizza that they’d forgotten all about, they rushed outside. Bold squawks greeted them. Unfortunately, the crows had not forgotten about the pizza at all. About six of the little bastards perched around the open box, staring at Steph and Steve as if they were uninvited party crashers. The crows only took wing when Steph barked at the lot of them. They flew overhead, circling the fountain and cawing disdainfully. The pizza was an entirely lost cause. The murder had pecked out all the toppings and most of the cheese.

Steph and Steve growl impotently at the birds. They were about to turn on their heel and march back inside when they noticed a deeper sound among the flock’s cawings, a rich laugh. The shoulders of the octopus woman in the fountain shook.

“You best let them have that. It's far better to be on the good side of sizeable murder.” The statue’s head turned as it spoke, rock flaking away from her neck, exposing ink black skin beneath. With a sigh she stretched, shattering the stone encasing her torso. Tentacles flexed free of the stone, as dark as her human upper body but bearing a pattern of golden rings. That left only her head to break free. She grabbed her chin with a webbed six fingered hand and with a sharp crack, the sculpted face with mid orgasm expression came free as single piece. The stone had softened her features, her eyes and lips were gold. The same rings that patterned her tentacles decorated her cheeks. She brushed the remaining stone from her hair, then turned the cast of her face over in her hands and smiled with a mouth full of shark teeth. “Now there’s a handsome face,” Twisting her wrist, she pivoted the mask to look at Steph and Steve who stood frozen on the porch. “Think I should save this for a masquerade?”

They dropped the pizza box and lifted their somewhat rumpled skirt in a deep curtsy. “Sorry madam, we are not equipped to advise you on such matters.”

“Oh of course not. Fetch Tipper for me will you? We must talk.” She gave a dismissive wave. The statue satyrs had also begun to move, but without cracking, rather they were slowly picking themselves up.

“Uh…” Steve started and attracting a golden eyed glare.

“P-pardon madam but master Tipper is no longer in residence in the manor.” Steph stammered under the gaze.

“Typical.” She examined her long clawed nails which glittered in the late afternoon sunlight. “When will they return?”

“They won’t, so far as we know. Sigourney Tipper died over three decades ago.” Steve said.

“Madam.” Steph added respectfully.

“WHAT!” The woman roared, rolling her entire body around to face the pair and her torso rising above the lip of the fountain. A fearsome sight, her huge breasts sporting grins of their own with golden needle like teeth. Lightening played among her eyes and hair as the scents of the sea flood the air. If she was the inspiration for Ursla of little mermaid fame they had left out a few details.

“Many pardons Madam!” Steph and Steve yipped, stepping to the side to cower behind a column on the porch. “We came to the estate a week ago! It was abandoned and my mistresses just restored the connection to the ley line a few hours ago.”

“I’ll have their head for this!” Her voice conjured rolling thunder from the sky above. “We exchanged blood in an oath of trust!” Every golden ring on her body opened into a perfectly circular eye, each glowing red with the force of her anger. She spat a blob of inky black mucus on to the grey pavement of the driveway. It spread into circle of flowing runs that pulsed with power. She thrust her hand up to the sky, “In the name of my father, emperor of the ocean, in name of my mother, Queen of the Depths! I command you Sigourney Gottfried Tipper to stand forth! Where ever you dwell. Whatever you’ve got your dick buried in this time. I summon thee to answer this insult!”

Lightning struck the circle in a blinding column of light. Steve and Steph flinched, expecting a blast of sound or a concussive wave or something, but no sound accompanied the light. Poking their noses around the pillar, the pavement within the circle smoked slightly but no one stood within it. 

The octopus woman seethed, baring her shark pointed teeth at the circle. Then all those eyes blinked and her face fell. “Did I… do it wrong? I didn’t feel a ward. I… oh no… Tippy… My Tippy.” She trailed off, her eyes closing as her black skin paled all the way to bright white, the rings turning a crimson red. Her body deflated some as she sank down into the fountain, turning away as she slumped back down into her seat.

She bowed her head and remained still, her skin slowly darkening but it did not reach back to black but settled on a slick stony gray.

Steve swallowed and spoke up, “Madam, are you alright?”

“Oh, you’re still there little servant? Be a dear and turn on the fountain for me. Its rather dry.” She said moving nothing but her lips.

“We would be happy to madam, if you could tell us how.” Steph asked.

“Should be three of those turny things to your right, behind the bushes. The middle one is the salt water.” She said.

Steve and Steph swiftly found the valves, big honking two inch wide pipes jutting from the house into them before diving in the ground. The wheels shined as if they were brand new but they smelled of rust. Fortunately, they were big enough to grip even with the paws. Water jetted up from the center of the fountain five feet in the air before splitting into a spray that fell over the width of the fountain. The Satyr statues had taken up positions around the fountain’s edges and jets of water streamed from their erect penises. The octopus woman sat almost as still as the statues, only the tip of one tentacle flicking back and forth hinted at her animation.

While the woman clearly wanted to left alone, a question burned at Steve, nibbled at Steph too. They straighten their back and consciously pulled their tail from between their legs. Stepping off the porch they stepped gingerly towards the fountain.

“Ah Madam, we are sorry to disturb you but-” Steve started.

“We worry about the other statues.” Steph finished.

The octopus woman made a deep hrrrm sound. “Yes, I see your concern. Most are simple constructs, but there are a few others like me who sought the… prolongation of moments within stone. Yet the others were mortal, and mortal souls don’t adhere to stone without supportive enchantments. I doubt they will trouble your duties. Now must ponder this… state I find myself in. Have your mistress call upon me in the morrow.”

“Certainly madam.” They said and with one last curtsy they withdrew, abandoning the pizza’s remains to the birds. Once they retrieved the pail of milk and brought it to the kitchen, they pondered the contents of the fridge. Angelica had clearly been out at the grocery store at least once while she’d been in charge, but supplies were low. A half pack of chicken breasts, a couple pounds of ground beef and a three of Angelica’s eggs were all they had for protein. The cabinet revealed some pasta, several cans of dog food and a bag of catnip flavored treats.

“Oooh! The good stuff!” Steph grabbed at the dog food and clutched it to their chest. Their stomach gurgled. “Where’s the can opener?” Steph cast around until she spotted an electric one in the counter's corner, the can-o-matic.

“But… that’s dog food.” Steve finally found her own voice.

“And we’re dogs!” Steph said, slapping the can into the opener, which buzzed to life. As soon as the machine pierced the top. “We’ve been eating this for days now.” 

A thick meaty smell flooded the air at the machine turned the can and its lid flipped up. Steph salivated as they grabbed the can and up turned it over a plate but sniffed at the air, there was something beneath the meatiness that she off putting. As Steph made to nose into the brown mess Steve turned their body sudden, causing her to miss the counter entirely. 

She barked in surprise.

“We can’t eat that. It smells bad.” Steve said.

“It smells scrumptious! Its good stuff. It says premium on the can!” Steph whine in her confusion, reaching for the plate.

“Steph…” Steve licked her cheek with her sandpaper tongue. “I’m not a dog anymore, that last card specified a taste for meat, remember?”

“But it smells so good,” she whined and pouted. “And… I’m not sure there’s enough food to serve the mistress and her pet. The mistress could down all that in two bites, three tops. Not to mention Angelica’s not small either, she’s gotta be almost three hundred pounds.”

“Not our problem, we’re maids, not cooks.” Steve said firmly, returning to the refrigerator and retrieving the hamburger meat. Dumping it out of the bag, they tried to draw knife from the block but the handle proved to be too thin for them to grip single pawed and it clattered onto the counter top.

“Some maids cook. There’s come cookbooks over there. Who else is gonna do it?” Steph said as they carefully sandwiched the knife between too paws and used it to slice off a quarter of the meat.   

“The mistress can cook.” Steve said.

Steph gasped, “She must not! She’s the mistress!”

“Angelica cooked when she was mistress.” Steve speared a chunk of meat on a claw and popped it into her mouth. The cold meat practically melted on her tongue and their stomach howled for it. Steph said something but Steve was too busy gobbling the meat from the cutting board to hear her. Her feline muzzle made sort work of it. Steph managed to snitch a mere swallow. 

“Greedy!” Steph growled, “Share next time.”

“It all goes to the same place,” Steve patted their belly as she used her to tongue to clean the remain meat juice from her whiskers.

“You’re even naughtier as a cat.” Steph snorted. 

“If the mistress orders us to cook, we’ll cook. Right now I want to clean.” Steve said. “Its a huge house and we gotta clean the whole thing if we’re having a party.”

 Steph nodded reluctantly then smiled, “Cleaning is fun. Lets go.”

Argument settled, the pair got to work. They discovered that the statues that were whole on the ground floor had moved themselves from that semi circle that guarded the stairway. Sadly the broken ones remained where they lay. Steve made a mental note to ask mistress for assistance with those. The statues weren’t the only things that had animated either, the paintings of Tipper in all their myriad forms watched them with open curiosity where before only their eyes moved. Most them were polite about it, but Tipper as Zeus openly leered. Maybe they’d cover him with a bedsheet or put him in storage to teach him a lesson. They attempted strike up a conversation with Tipper as Athena but she only smiled and shook her head. Afterward, they cleaned up the game room the best they could but the vintage carpet cleaner had little potency.

“If we win the finale, can we ask for magic cleaning powers?” Steph pondered as she wiped her sweaty brow, as they rested from futile rubbing at the carpet with their wet rag. It still smelled like milk.

“Wouldn’t that take the fun out of it?” Steph replied between her heavy pants.

“Maybe just unlimited supplies or like a transdimensional kangaroo pouch, that way we could keep a big hammer in there to ward off gross people we don’t wanna fuck.” Steph giggled and Steve swiftly joined in.

“You watch too much anime.” Steve chided her with a kiss.

A loud call interrupted the conversation.

“Steph! Stephen! Come to dinner!”

“Yes Mistress!” Steph barked back as Steve winced at the use of her extended name. Regardless, they sprang to their feet and hurried to the kitchen.

*****

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