I need to explain this story. Last year, there was a "Truth or
Dare" game on USENET alt.tv.buffy-v-slayer.creative, and Jenny
M. issued me the following dare:
Your dare is to write a song fic (pref based on something tacky
and eighties). The plot doesn't have to come from the song if you
don't want it to. Each character has to say one line from the
song.
I know this is mean, and possibly in the worst possible taste,
but it's my idea of a nightmare dare and I'd like to see someone
pull it off.
I replied:
Er, okay. Here goes. I'm actually using a good song or two as
decoys. One's by Nick Lowe, for example. The really bad song
comes near the end, but that's in the epilogue, a long way
down. Song copyright information at the end, of course.
A couple things more--i wrote this in the early fall of 2001,
before the S3 priemere. So, I didn't know that Fred would start
insane, and i didn't know that Angel would be on retreat. This
story is non-canonical. And, I had thought that BtVS would be
lined up against Smallville, not Gimore Girls. Finally, I live
in the state of Virginia, which explains some of the commercials.
The characters of Angel, Cordelia, Gunn, Virginia, Wesley,
Winifred, and the general setting of Angel are the possessions of
Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt, Kuzui Enterprises, Sandollar
Entertainment, Fox Studios, and the Warner Brothers Network. No
infringement is intended. Otherwise, this story is copyright
2001 by Eric Jablow (though if any of the aforementioned entities
sue, I'm toast). Feel free to print or archive it as long as you
do not sell it, remove the copyright information, or modify the
story.
---
"Ha! I can't believe it!"
"What?" Cordelia crossed the lobby of the Hyperion Hotel to
Winifred. Winifred was sitting on a couch; a large pile of
newspapers, magazines, and books lay beside her. "Bill Clinton
did that? And got away with it? And Hil's now a senator?"
"Some people have all the luck, I guess."
"I don't understand about this Harris woman, though."
"Harris woman? Xan--oh, Katherine Harris. No one does."
"I was thinking--there's got to be a way to model the
portals. Perhaps I can use an Ising model."
"Huh--portals? An icing model? As in airplane wings, or as in
cake?" Cordelia looked confused, but then Fred's random shifts of
focus tended to confuse everyone.
"No, sil--sorry. I-s-i-n-g model. A person. Course, it would
have to be a 26-dimensional model, but isn't everything? Do you
think I can use your computer later?"
"Uh, I think I need it myself." Cordelia walked back to her desk;
Wesley was nearby, putting some files into a cabinet. As she
approached her desk, she heard some muffled crashes from
elsewhere in the hotel.
"Cordelia, I know you were only trying to help when you showed
Angel the old crockery and suggested he take out his anger on old
plates, but I think perhaps you should not have done it."
"Well, Wesley, I didn't want him taking out his anger on
himself. More important, I didn't want him taking it out on me."
"He is very enthusiastic, isn't he?"
"Well, Wesley, the woman he loved died. You think he's just going
to have a drink and forget it?"
"It is human of him, in a way."
Fred gave a whoop from across the room: "Whee! Battle Avocado is
on tonight. I hope they serve guacamole!"
"Perhaps we can get her a job at Taco Supremo, Wesley. She's
getting on--"
Wesley lunged for Cordelia as she fell convulsively
backward. Fred ran from the couch into the hotel, calling Angel's
name. Angel nearly collides with her in a doorway, and they head
back into the lobby.
Wesley carries Cordelia to the couch, and they wait for her to
come around. She regains consciousness, and she tells them, "I
wish I had given Gru those visions when I had the chance."
Dare" game on USENET alt.tv.buffy-v-slayer.creative, and Jenny
M. issued me the following dare:
Your dare is to write a song fic (pref based on something tacky
and eighties). The plot doesn't have to come from the song if you
don't want it to. Each character has to say one line from the
song.
I know this is mean, and possibly in the worst possible taste,
but it's my idea of a nightmare dare and I'd like to see someone
pull it off.
I replied:
Er, okay. Here goes. I'm actually using a good song or two as
decoys. One's by Nick Lowe, for example. The really bad song
comes near the end, but that's in the epilogue, a long way
down. Song copyright information at the end, of course.
A couple things more--i wrote this in the early fall of 2001,
before the S3 priemere. So, I didn't know that Fred would start
insane, and i didn't know that Angel would be on retreat. This
story is non-canonical. And, I had thought that BtVS would be
lined up against Smallville, not Gimore Girls. Finally, I live
in the state of Virginia, which explains some of the commercials.
The characters of Angel, Cordelia, Gunn, Virginia, Wesley,
Winifred, and the general setting of Angel are the possessions of
Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt, Kuzui Enterprises, Sandollar
Entertainment, Fox Studios, and the Warner Brothers Network. No
infringement is intended. Otherwise, this story is copyright
2001 by Eric Jablow (though if any of the aforementioned entities
sue, I'm toast). Feel free to print or archive it as long as you
do not sell it, remove the copyright information, or modify the
story.
---
"Ha! I can't believe it!"
"What?" Cordelia crossed the lobby of the Hyperion Hotel to
Winifred. Winifred was sitting on a couch; a large pile of
newspapers, magazines, and books lay beside her. "Bill Clinton
did that? And got away with it? And Hil's now a senator?"
"Some people have all the luck, I guess."
"I don't understand about this Harris woman, though."
"Harris woman? Xan--oh, Katherine Harris. No one does."
"I was thinking--there's got to be a way to model the
portals. Perhaps I can use an Ising model."
"Huh--portals? An icing model? As in airplane wings, or as in
cake?" Cordelia looked confused, but then Fred's random shifts of
focus tended to confuse everyone.
"No, sil--sorry. I-s-i-n-g model. A person. Course, it would
have to be a 26-dimensional model, but isn't everything? Do you
think I can use your computer later?"
"Uh, I think I need it myself." Cordelia walked back to her desk;
Wesley was nearby, putting some files into a cabinet. As she
approached her desk, she heard some muffled crashes from
elsewhere in the hotel.
"Cordelia, I know you were only trying to help when you showed
Angel the old crockery and suggested he take out his anger on old
plates, but I think perhaps you should not have done it."
"Well, Wesley, I didn't want him taking out his anger on
himself. More important, I didn't want him taking it out on me."
"He is very enthusiastic, isn't he?"
"Well, Wesley, the woman he loved died. You think he's just going
to have a drink and forget it?"
"It is human of him, in a way."
Fred gave a whoop from across the room: "Whee! Battle Avocado is
on tonight. I hope they serve guacamole!"
"Perhaps we can get her a job at Taco Supremo, Wesley. She's
getting on--"
Wesley lunged for Cordelia as she fell convulsively
backward. Fred ran from the couch into the hotel, calling Angel's
name. Angel nearly collides with her in a doorway, and they head
back into the lobby.
Wesley carries Cordelia to the couch, and they wait for her to
come around. She regains consciousness, and she tells them, "I
wish I had given Gru those visions when I had the chance."