Daily Opus

geekhyena asked: Why the X-Men aren't putting on musicals anymore.

(#00162)

“Okay, so let’s recap. The lead’s got ‘lurgi’, our soprano has a frog in her throat from the same thing, our harpist is having a nervous breakdown..”

“Fifth this week,”

“And thanks to a fight in the school grounds, the tenor has a broken arm.”

“That and the costumes have gone missing, the lighting’s mis-wired, half the backdrops have been accidentally used by the local kindergarten as a mural, and someone’s meticulously disassembled the props.”

“Do we have a show left?”

“We could probably do A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum… in a pinch.”

“Nothing beats impromptu costumes like togas.”

“…is it me, or did we do Forum last year?”

“For the last three years.”

“You know what? Fuck it. We’ll just do a talent show.”

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geekhyena asked: Iron Chef - Mechanicsburg!

(#00161)

“READY!”

“What I want to know is—”

“STEADY!”

“—who thought this was a good idea?”

“COOK!”

Gil winced as the klaxon blared. “Well, given the -ah- intense emotion, and the fact that this town’s had enough battle…”

“PENALTY FOR KNIFE THROWING!”

“…I thought this was slightly more rational.”

One competitor had not bothered attempting to sabotage the competition. She had knives flying, all right, but they were chopping, slicing, dicing, julienne-ing and otherwise preparing food. The grim determination in her face spoke a lot more than any of the commentators did.

Yes. Sara had a lot to hide…

“After how much ‘special’ coffee?”

Gil glared at Tarvek. “I haven’t touched the stuff. But I am keeping some in reserve for… ‘special’ guests.”

“You mean the ones that argue too much and won’t listen to a sane word?”

“That’s them.”

“That’s… that’s…”

“Cruel beyond reason? Strange and unusual? Poetic?”

“…perfect…”

The watching crowd oohed  as several pans caught artfully on fire.

“I thought so, too. They’re much more willing to at least listen.”

“Pity your little green girlfriend had her biochemistry altered by a madman,” Tarvek noted. “You could have made her… talkative.”

“Have you seen her on normal coffee? Or even substandard coffee?”

“No.”

“Well, she’s what happened to the Gallery of Misery after one small cup.”

“…eeeeeeeeeeesh…”

“Needless to say, I forbade further experiments in that field.”

“Five!” the audience cheered. “Four! Three! Two!”

BLAAAAAAAAAAAT!

All competitors stepped back from their trolleys.

“Why are the judges sweating?” asked Tarvek.

“I told them it was this or the coffee. And when a Jaegermonster is one of the competitors…”

“Ah. Of course.” Jaegermonsters not only ate things that could fell a mere mortal, but relished them as delicacies. It added a certain… edge… to the competition.

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Trilogy progress, book 2, part 3

40K words accomplished. 20K to go.

Assuming I don’t go bananas and decide to put more than that in.

inconvenient-harpist:

the word is actually DOUGHNUT, not DONUT

dunkin donuts spells it wrong okay

Amen

geekhyena asked: Gil and Tarvek try Agatha's "special coffee".

(#00160)

“Honestly, that flask says ‘Do not open’. There has to be a reason.”

“Exactly why I’m opening it. To see why[1].”

Tarvek, at least, had the sense to duck and cover.

“Some kind of liquid…” Gil sniffed cautiously. “It’s coffee!”

“It’s in a sealed container with a warning label! That alone is enough to put it back where it came from!”

“…there was something important I was supposed to remember about coffee…”

Tarvek growled. “Oh, warm it up, then. I’m sure we’ll find out about it.”

*

“DESTROY! IMPERFECTION!” grated the clank. “DESTROY! IMPERFECTION!”

“How the hell did we make this out of three rocks and a cheese grater?”

“And the container the coffee was in?” added Gil. “I can’t remember. Everything was… perfect…”

“DESTROY! IMPERFECTION!”

“And how do we kill it?”

“Good question.”

[1] This tells you everything you need to know about humanity in general and Sparks in particular.

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geekhyena asked: Jean decides to go for the special award for community service offered by Bayville High in exchange for 200 hours of volunteering. Xavier thinks this is a great idea - so guess who else winds up doing it? Chaos/hilarity ensues.

(#00159)

“The prize is a car,” said Jean. “You have no idea what that means for me.”

“There’s something wrong with my car?” said Scott.

“Yeah, I have to go where you want to take me. I’m going for it.”

*

Jean opened the little envelope. “Looks like I’m a candy-striper at the veterans home. Huh.”

“Hooray,” deadpanned Kurt. “Bedpans and unwanted PDA’s from old folks.”

“Ignore him,” said Kitty. “He’s still bitter about the whole animal shelter fiasco.”

“You’ll get another chance,” predicted Jean. “Try them again during kitten/puppy season. They’re always swamped, then.”

“Hrumph.”

*

Jean secured the last bit of hairnet to find a fellow volunteer in andy-pandy overalls[1] and also a hairnet.

He looked at her. She looked at him. Both voiced the same thought at the same time. “Oh, just great.”

“You two know each other?” smiled the volunteer co-ordinator.

“Rivals,” supplied Jean. “But I’ll make an effort not to let that get in the way of our work.”

“You but out of this, miss perfect. I need that car!”

“Aren’t you already working two jobs?”

“Not since Speedy got me fired. But I took care of him. He’s doing courier work. On the other side of town.”

“And how about the other two?”

“Trek Marathon at the Odeon. They shouldn’t do too much damage.”

Jean breathed out. “Okay. Good. You should also know that there’s more than one car to win. So there’s no need for any kind of ‘special fireworks’, got that?”

“Yeah, I got no interest in more damage to pay off, thanks.”

“Then we have a deal.”

“Fine.”

They shook, and got on with the day.

*

Five hours later…

One wing of the Home was on fire. A broken hydrant sent a fountain of water twenty feet into the air. The runabout-painted minivan that broke it lay forlornly on its side in the middle of the street, blocking traffic both ways. Distant sirens howled.

The veterans, Fred, and Todd were conga-ing around the ruined building. Singing.

“STAAAAARRRR TREKKIN’ ACROSS THE UNIVERSE!”

“This is all your fault.”

“ON THE STARSHIP ENTERPRISE UNDER CAPTAIN KIRK!”

“My fault? I didn’t do anything!”

“STAR TREKKIN’ ACROSS THE UNIVERSE!”

“They’re your friends.”

“BOLDLY GOING FOR-WARD ‘CAUSE WE CAN’T FIND REVERSE!”

“I did not get them shit-faced on sugar and additives and throw them out of the theatre! They did that all by themselves.”

“IT’S WORSE THAN THAT HE’S DEAD, JIM; DEAD, JIM; DEAD JIM!”

“You weren’t there to stop them.”

“IT’S WORSE THAN THAT HE’S DEAD, JIM; DEAD, JIM, DEAD!”

“Well excuse me for trying to get a car I didn’t have to pay off after I die!”

“WELL IT’S LIFE, JIM, BUT NOT AS WE KNOW IT…”

“Oh my God, when are they going to shut up?”

“I suggested elephant tranq’s but they just laughed at me.”

A siren-bearing vehicle finally pulled up on the verge and a uniform got out, and picked them to talk to, since they were the only ones sitting still and not trying to relieve the chaos. “Do either of you know who’s responsible for this mess?”

“THERE’S KLINGONS ON THE STARBOARD BOW…”

Jean pointed to Lance. Lance pointed to Fred. “I left him in charge of Todd,” he explained. “He knows that neither of them are supposed to have sugar and additives. I had to work.”

“As a candy-striper?”

“No, this is to win a new car. Kinda need that to work, too.”

“Are they singing ‘Star Trekking’?”

“Yes.”

“You’re kidding. I love that song!”

Lance pinched the bridge of his nose. “…kill me now…”

[1] Of course certain household whovians introduced Jean to the concept of Andy Pandy overalls.

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