Two in the morning and Alphonse and I were locked in a battle of wills. Sleep was the last thing on his mind as he pranced around the room, making loud happy noises. Despite my entreaties for some quiet, Alphonse willfully ignored me, in turns, pacing and prancing and shaking the room with sudden jumps, all the while making his guttural noises and ear-piercing shrieks.
Tired from bargaining (which obviously was not doing the trick), I loudly announced that that was it, I was tired and I was going to bed. I made a big production out of yawning, rubbing my eyes repeatedly, and stretching my arms. I noticed Alphonse pause for a while and look at me from the corners of his eyes. Pretending I was oblivious to him, I rustled the sheets, making sure I had got his complete attention by then. And then I said “Good night, Alphonse” and promptly closed my eyes.
I held my breath for what seemed like ages as Alphonse seemed to consider what had gone on before him. And then, quietly this time, he returned to his pacing and prancing, this time, with soft, happy noises.
After a while, he went back to bed, covered himself with his blanket, and fell to sleep himself. It seems like with the audience gone, the star finally needs his rest.