INTERIOR. APARTMENT. DAY.
WAYNE enters a messy living room where his roommate ISAAC is sitting and reading a book.
WAYNE: God, you're such a loser, always reading your stupid "spell books." Magic's not real, dumbass!
ISAAC: Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that.
WAYNE: How about instead of sitting around pretending you're a wizard, you get off your butt and do some cleaning up around here? Just look at this pigsty! I'm not your maid, you know!
ISAAC smirks.
ISAAC: Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that, either.
WAYNE looks puzzled and then - Poof! - he suddenly transforms into a curvy brunette in a classic French maid uniform, with a feather duster in his hand and a bucket of cleaning supplies waiting at his feet. He looks down at himself in shock.
WAYNE: Mon dieu! What is zis? (He notices his new voice and gestures angrily, swishing his feather duster.) Oh, so zis is one of your magic spells from ze book, oui? You zink zis is funny, to turn me into ze French maid, with ze leetle dress and such a theek accent? Well, zis is no funny! You must reverse zis spell and turn me back into a man, tout de suite!
ISAAC: I don't know. Listening to you complain is a lot more fun like this.
WAYNE rolls his eyes, then he notices a banana peel on a nearby shelf and grimaces.
WAYNE: Ugh! Just look how you always leave so much of ze garbages around, all for me to clean! (He picks up the banana peel.) And zen I bet you expect for me to wash ze dishes... (He continues tidying up, hardly aware he's doing it, and as he does his voice gradually loses its edge and becomes bright and cheerful.) And zen I have to do all ze laundry... and I must mop ze floors... and clean ze oven... and maybe I cook for monsieur a nice dinner, oui?
ISAAC: Sounds like a plan, "Fifi."
WAYNE shakes his head, coming out of his little French maid daze.
WAYNE: My name is no Fifi! You are going to reverse zis spell and turn me back into a man, right after I do ze laundry... and ze dusting... (He realizes he's slipping back into a maid trance and grunts in frustration.) Damn eet! I am not ze French maid for you!
He picks up his bucket of cleaning supplies, turns on his high heel and stomps off to the laundry room. After a moment he peeks back in, looking grouchy.
WAYNE: Dinner will be serve at six, monsieur.