He looked at the chair he'd been in. It seemed to be refusing to return and perform its duties. "How would you like to be a tacky colored beanbag chair?" he threatened. "I can do that, you know." The chair managed to blow raspberries at him, and he didn't hesistate to make it an oversized beanbag chair with the most hideous colored fabric he could think of. It was something he'd seen on a woman's entirely-too-cheap muumuu on Waikiki beach. He loathed the fabric. He yanked the chair back to where he needed it and sat down on it. The rest of the furniture seemed to be getting the hint that Michael meant it.
"What I meant was does it make a relationship issue for you and your roommate if I undo your enchantment and he still has to live with his?" Michael asked. "You do realize that even as well as I normally can control enchanted objects, these are all destined to be either ash or a pain in the ass until the hex is undone. Even regardless of our attempts to control them. It might lessen as they learn you mean business, but that's only to a given point.
"Spongebob has a different lesson to learn." And Omara did remind Michael of a walking, talking sponge that wasn't able to function unless it was completely submerged in alcohol. So Spongebob he had become to Michael.
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