"Okay, girl," Cake huffed. "How in heck can we make these two shut up?"

"I...don't know," Fionna said. Neither one was giving in; and neither was winning the argument either.

"We have got to think of something!" Cake practically begged.

"Let me know when you actually hatch an idea."

The island bird squawked louder (Fionna and Cake covered their ears with a grimace) just as the crabby crustacean snapped his claws with even more vicious force.

Desperate to save their switched-up friends, the girls tried their damnedest to (somehow) put the squabbling animals together. Every attempt, every hour of trying to put them together, all resulted to one thing: failure.

"I'm about to give up, Sister," Cake breathed; she seemed to sweat despite the fact that they never really did anything but talk.

"They're too different people, Cake. If there could be some way to make them quiet at least a bit...," Fionna sighed.

"I wish we'd know what they're arguing about, so we can get a better chance, but they're just too busy getting on each other's nerves."

"If we could just get them to talk their problem out..."

Something sparked in Fionna. "Cake, that's just it!"

Cake looked at her best friend with confused eyes. "What are you thinking, girl?"

"You're pretty good at sass-talking, right?"

"Yeah, so...?"

"You think you can do that to them, just enough to get them to spill up? I'm sure a good surly attitude can get them talking."

Cake considered it. "Hmm...That just might work, honey. Anyway, it just might also be the most useful thing I'll be doing compared to everything else we've done together."

"Okay, Cake, I'll tell you what you're going to do. Let's just cross our fingers and hope it'll be worth it."

"Yeah, it's about to be night time," Cake muttered, looking at the sun on its way to the west.

"Look, feathers! Why don't you just give up and let me have my way!" the crab roared in between snaps.

"I'll be the one giving up?! Say that to my butt feathers!" the island bird squawked in between flapping its wings crazily.

"Hey, guys," Cake said with a secret smirk.

"Cool it, pussy, you're bothering us," the island bird snapped.

"Maybe you should cool it, feather-brain."

Though Cake's suddenly vicious response was intended for the island bird, both animals flinched at the edge of attitude in her voice. For the first time they seemed to actually shut up and really look at the cat.

Cake looked back at them, one eyebrow raised. "Look at you two! Well, listen to yourselves, rather. You've been doing nothing but squabble this, berate that, with a little bit of quareling here and there. Sheesh, sometimes I wonder if you two don't get yourselves some throat lozenges sometime or run your throats dry!"

The crab opened his mouth to comment, but Cake hissed at him; the crab cringed back.

"Let me finish, crabby!"

Both animals gulped.

"Maybe it would be WAY BETTER if either one of you would AT LEAST blab about what you've been bickering about! We'll be way better that way!" Heavy sarcasm at the end.

Both animals looked at each other with fear—not fear from the other, but Cake.

Cake tapped her foot impatiently.

"W-well...," the island bird began to stammer. "You—you see—"

"Squawk it out, flappers."

"This crab keeps bothering me all day with his snapping! Snap here! Snap there! Ugh, it's annoying!" the island bird said as he grimaced. "Doesn't he know it's bound to drive anyone insane?!"

"I resent that!" the crab protested. "If there was ever really anything worth driving someone nuts it would be your endless flapping of wings! Each time you'd flap a feather drops here and there; I can't ever have a day when I'm not bothered with your feathers! I'm practically going to last my whole life sneezing from those darn feathers of yours!"

"That's not my problem—and anyway, you need to stop all that claw-snapping!" the island bird said coldly.

"No way, you deal with it—but you may have to consider quitting all that wing-flapping, feather-dropping nonsense first!" the crab said with the same level of coldness.

"Quit being a crab!"

"Pluck all your feathers out!"

Fionna looked at Cake panickedly. Cake nodded and built up more power for her next assault upon the squabbling duo.

"Oh, shut up!" Cake hissed ferociously.

Stunned silence.

"I see how it is—neither one of you want to go for a little compromising. The way I see it, both of you expect the other to give in. Well, nothing happened! Let's put it this way: Island Bird"—she looked at the practically frightened bird—"where do you live?"

"The palm tree nearest to the sea," he answered automatically. "I always love looking at the sea when I wake up in the morning...except my mornings are always ruined by the sound of the crab's snapping! Hmmph! It would've been better if I were listening to music than that wretched noise!"

The crab opened his mouth to begin another assault, but Cake silenced him with an icy cat glare.

"And you, Crab?" she asked the nervous crustacean. "Where do you live?"

"I very much prefer the feel of the wind and the company of trees compared to life in the water, so I chose to live underneath the rock nearest to the sea—which is under the island bird's house. And that's the reason his feathers always get to me." He glared at the bird.

"Why don't you move, then?" the island bird snapped. "Go and settle for another residence!"

"And why do I have to?!" the crab retorted. "If someone has to move, it's you!"

"Wait, wait, wait, wait," Fionna trilled. She looked at Cake then back to the two. "Both of you enjoy residence near the sea but just seem to be annoyed with each other, right?"

Both nodded.

"Island Bird, you want to enjoy your mornings and can't seem to 'cause of the crab's claw-snapping,"—she looked at the crab—"have you by any chance an interest in music?"

"Ah, yes," the crab replied gently. "That, my little girl, is my passion, I used to have the time of my life with my castanets, but they have long been gone."

"Just thinking—why don't you try making castanets out of your own claws? I'm sure you'd still be a virtuoso out of making music with your own hands...er, claws, rather."

"Hmm...I'd never considered that, but I shall give it a try." And he began with an attempt to turn his claw-snapping into music."

"Mmmm," the island bird breathed. "I have to admit, that sure sounds...wonderful."

Fionna and Cake exchanged a grin.

"But what about the island bird?" Cake asked.

"Hmm...Island Bird, why is it your feathers always seem to drop whenever you flap your wings?" Fionna asked the bird who, right now, seemed to be enjoying herself.

"Ah, dear, that won't be a problem anymore—when I am stressed, my feathers are more prone to dropping, but now that my mornings will be a lot more peaceful from now on,"—he smiled at the crab, and the girls were surprised to see him return it—"no one has to worry about it."

"But...all that flapping?" Fionna asked.

"That's normal for a bird."

"Crab? You think you can handle the island bird's flapping?"

"As long as it means no more feathers on my face, I'd happily deal with it," the crab said calmly.

"Good," Cake said, her gaze level and suddenly emotionless. "Now you two better behave. I hear another bit of trouble out of you and you'll all face the wrath of Mama Cake!"

Both animals flinched, then nodded obediently.

Now that the problem was solved, the girls looked at each other with a smile of victory and fist-bumped.

"I see...," The Switch Witch murmured. "So that means I'll be hearing no more bickering out of those two?"

"Yeah, and it also means you have to switch our friends back together, since we had a deal," Fionna said smugly.

"How did you girls do it?"

"We had to do it rough, if you know what I mean," Cake said, smiling at the memory of the animals' terror from her and also secretly hoping she hadn't gone below the belt back there.

"Okay, I'll switch your friends back." The Switch Witch shrugged. "Just give me a minute to prepare the spell that will reverse the switch spell."

"Okay, this…is totally weird," Prince Gumball commented, looking at the apple in his hand.

"Taste red, Bubba," Marshall Lee urged. "Instead of thinking it tastes bad."

"Well, it's not impossible to get rid of the red hue, but at the same time—"

"There's no time for logic, nerd." Marshall Lee was starting to get annoyed with PG's stalling. "Quit being ignorant and suck it up like a man or I'll burn your buns."

"Fine with me," PG half-bluffed. "Anyway, it's technically your buns that'll get toast, not mine."

"Yeah, but the difference is you're the one who'll feel the burn."

Flame Prince was drinking water, amazed at the tastelessness of it. He was also amazed at how dry his throat had gone for the last several hours since the switch.

PG turned away from Marshall Lee (and all his ribbing) and back to the apple with a sulking expression. Then he sank his fangs into it and, in small but quick spurts, he sucked up the red hue from it (all while keeping a straight face—if Marshall Lee saw that, he'd be rolling on the floor; which probably wouldn't be a bad thing except he'd be setting the floor on fire).

Marshall Lee watched PG suck all the red from the apple with a smug expression.

Just then, Fionna and Cake burst through the door.

"Hey guys," Fionna called. "We finally got it!" Then she rummaged through her bag and took out a box. She opened it and put out another mysterious-looking flower.

"Another flower?" Marshall Lee questioned.

"Witch's a girl, natch," Cake said matter-of-factly.

"Well, you better not touch it, Marshall Lee; this is the only one we have." Then Fionna looked around. The owner of the vampire king's "borrowed" body was nowhere to be found. "Hey, where's Flame Prince?"

But Flame Prince emerged into view before anyone could think much about it. He seemed to carry on a sullen expression, which quickly turned to relief. He noticed everyone's eyes on him, but before Fionna could open her mouth to ask, Flame Prince immediately said, "I just drank too much water, that's all" with a slight blush.

"Okay, guys, go huddle up together like you did before this whole mess started," Cake instructed. "PG, you hold the flower."

Prince Gumball floated down to take the flower from Cake. Then Flame Prince chugged down a glass of water.

Fionna looked at FP and said, "You know, FP, I don't get why you're so obsessed with water."

"This is the last glass of water I'll be taking in, Fionna." Then he put the glass back and joined Prince Gumball.

"Oh well, it was fun seeing Bubba squirm while it lasted." Marshall Lee shrugged then joined the two.

"I think we better keep our distance, girl," Cake said to Fionna. She nodded in agreement and the duo quickly paced several steps away from the three switched-up royalties.

Just like from the previous flower, all the petals fell out and it gave off a violet-hued smoke with a smell that was just as strong and as sickening as the former flower. And, just like from the previous, the boys coughed from the smoke and the smell.

"Can't this witch"—cough—"make a"—cough—"less sickening-scented flower?!" they heard Flame Prince complain.

Finally, the smoke faded until it vanished completely; all three guys had their eyes closed and their hands pressed over their mouths.

Fionna and Cake didn't speak; they waited for them to do so—that way they'd know if the spell worked. Otherwise, Cake would "go back there and claw at the hag bald," as she'd said when they were on their way back.

"Well, I feel like myself," Prince Gumball commented.

"Yes! It worked!" the girls exulted in unison when saw PG's voice came from his own body.

"Well, I'm up here and you're all down there, so it's obvious it worked," Marshall Lee said, lying down in mid-air with his arms folded behind his head.

"Though going back to being hurt by water is a thorn on my side, nevertheless, I'm glad I'm myself again." Flame Prince grinned at the ball of fire in his palm.

The girls gave a sigh of relief. Then Fionna looked at Cake and said, "I wonder how cool would it be if we got switched-up?"

Cake rolled her eyes. "Don't fool yourself, Sister—I doubt you can handle my abilities."

"Well, I doubt you can wield a sword."

"Oh really, huh? When we do switch, let's see who squirms and who gets the last laugh!"

"If we happen to switch ourselves up," Fionna corrected.

"Let's cross our fingers, then, Sis?"

"You're on, Cake!"

The girls winked at each other, then laughed.

-The End-