Another Nathan Bransford contest is in the making. This time for dialogue. My entry is a complete flash fiction, rather than a piece from something longer. Disclaimer: don't try anything in this story at home.
"Davie, dearest? That's a very bad idea."
"Why?" asked Davie. He stopped the drill an inch from his head.
"Dying is terribly unpleasant."
"I won't die. My mind isn't bound to my physical form. This will prove my independence from mortal flesh!"
"I'm sure it will, dear," I said. "But you'll get blood on your clothes. What would your mother think?"
He lowered the drill. "She'd be angry."
"Exactly. Why don't we prove your independence from mortal flesh some other way?"
"There isn't another way."
I sighed. "You could go on a quest or sing about it, like a normal young man. You're making my job very hard."
He scowled. "You just don't understand."
"Of course I do, poppet. Come on, let's get some doughnuts. You'd miss doughnuts without a body, wouldn't you?"
"I suppose." Davie looked at the drill. "Fairy Godmother? Can I drill holes in the doughnuts?"
"Yes dear. If it stops you drilling holes in yourself, go right ahead."