"Remember what we talked about," he said, his voice lightly graveled and deep. "You're going to behave yourself."<br/><br/>Zany stopped panting to look up at him, floppy ears arched up and head cocked slightly to show she was listening. Even with her electric blue eyes and the regal set to her shoulders and cavernous chest, the heavy ears and long face made her live up to her clownish name; she looked like a gorgeous fool.<br/><br/><div class="bbm_float fright" style="float:right;margin:0 0 5px 10px">
<img src="https://thumbs.dreamstime.com/b/blue-eyed-great-dane-15245072.jpg" style="height: 400px"/>
</div>Goodman gave the harlequin great dane a crooked smirk, barely having to look "down" at her for how tall she was, those long, slender legs putting her head high enough to rest against his lower belly and he stood at a good 6'4". "You're so lovely in this form," he said swooningly at her, noting the lovely colors of dark grey and black patches on white background. Not spots. Half of her right foreleg was a black sleeve, and her eyes were swimming in black, with grey dusting her left eyebrow. She couldn't talk to him or understand too much in this form but if he didn't know any better, he could have sworn she raised an eyebrow at him and rolled her eyes before looking ahead.<br/><br/>Releasing a hearty laugh, flashing straight and charming teeth, Goodman continued walking down the sidewalk, the huge dog keeping pace with him. It looked a little out of place, Goodman wearing a form-fitting black leather vest overtop of charcoal shirt, with torn black jeans and combat boots, carrying a dainty dish of tiramisu, his shock of brilliant white mohawk and pierced ears clashing with the free walking yet obedient dog beside him. They looked a little too fitting, both two-toned, him with a neatly trimmed black beard, with white stripes at either corner of his mouth, like a skunk. He hoped it didn't set off too many alarm bells. After all, it wasn't meant to be subterfuge. Eh, not really.<br/><br/>Was he hiding out? Yes. Was he in trouble? Also yes. Could he accidentally bring trouble with him to this peaceful, luxurious neighborhood and crash this party held by a very gracious host? Possibly. The fact that Goodman wasn't altogether certain that he wouldn't inadvertently make victims out of everybody at Freddie Mercury's lodge if his pursuers found him, was enough to justify his innocence, leaving the trickster feeling blameless just in case anything did happen. It might all go horribly south. Hopefully not but it could happen. Heh.<br/><br/>With Zany at his side, Goodman stepped up to the doorway. Keeping one hand under the dish holding the cool and freshly made tiramisu, he reached forward to deliver a few sharp, solid knocks on the door, with ring-donned fingers. He lightly whistled while he waited, an old dirge from the Deep Trenches religion but Zany gave him a warning glance and he stopped with a smug smirk.