A/N: Well, my friends, I had a rather hilarious dream and this is (very) loosely based on it. I don't want to ruin things by explaining the dream up here, but I'll do so in the Post.Script for anyone who might still be interested, heh.
Um, if you're the type of person who's going to take anything written here seriously, I'd suggest running far far away. I loved each and every character in some way for some reason or another (yes, even Asha...I was A/A, dammit!), but as those familiar with my humor fics know, no one is safe from my lampoon. If you were on DA, you're gonna get burned by me one of these days :)
Anywho, that said...I present to you the theatrical masterpiece and international sensation, 'Wombats by the Lake.'
WHAT'S UP WITH THE RATING?: PG-13 for some suggestive content and a strong word or too. Love me, MPAA.
Our Good Friend MR. DISCLAIMER: Do I own? No. Should I? I certainly think so. SELL TO ME, FOX! SELL TO MEEEEE!!!!
*******
It was a dark and stormy night. It felt like the opening of a cheesy murder mystery, but this was post-Pulse Seattle, so most everyone was used to it.
Most everyone, that is, except Alec.
Yes, Alec was rather unhappy with his current living arrangements. Manticore life might have sucked just a tad harder than was comfortable (hehehe, oh the innuendos!), but at least it was dry. And it had lights, man. Working lights, even. A rare commodity in this shoddy rendition of the Real World: Seattle, where Normal caught Asha having sex with Sketchy in the hot tub while Original Cindy watched and...
Okay, we're getting off track. And that there scenario might be slighty exaggerated (keep in mind that "might" is the key word in that sentence!). But the point is, Alec was not your typical grinning Boy Scout. In fact, he was against the entire organization and had even participated in a few protests. Oh Alec, you budding activist, you!
Anyway, he wanted out. He wanted sunshine. He wanted groupies and tabloidal notiriety, and he sure as hell wasn't going to get any of that delivering packages and fueling Normal's bizarre gladiator fantasies. The only plausible way he could think of to get himself out of this veritable hellhole was to become the star of his own TV show. Yes, oh yes. Then Bollywood would know of his extreme wondrousness and fly him on over so that they might put him in all of their movies and plaster his face upon all of their posters and promotional...um...promotions.
But how in the world was he going to get on a TV show? Hmm. That's a toughy.
Fortunately, kids, he had a plan. A very evil plan (those are the best kind, ya know). A plan that involved hijacking...er...borrowing Logan's Eyes Only equipment. Hoo hoo, how devious! Muahahaha! Muahahahahahaha! Muaha... okay that's enough.
Now, to the untrainted non-X5 mind, this would seem like a ridiculously simple task. All he'd have to do is break into Logan's penthouse on a dark and stormy night very much like this one, hack into a few programs, film himself, then strategically release the video to the public at a time when big ass super spiffy execs were sure to be watching. He'd have to do a little digging to know exactly when that time was, but other than that it would be a piece of cake, right?
Wrong.
See, there was no more virus. So Max was spending a hell of a lot more time at Logan's nowadays. They both vehemently denied the rumors, but everybody who was anybody knew they were living together, especially all them transgenic detectives out there. Silly little cheese mongers. You can't slip that kinda stuff past Alec! No siree Bob!
Naturally, this presented a bit of a problem. If he snuck in, Max would catch him. She'd kick his ass. There would be scars. Bollywood doesn't like scars.
So, obviously, what he needed was permission to use the equipment. Preferably written, in contract form, with signatures over X's in permanent ink. There would probably be much paper work and red tape invovled. But that was a small price to pay to be loved by all of India, and probably Pakistan, and many of the artsy folk of Europe. Yes, he would be bold. He would be beautiful. He might even be young and restless. Anything to follow his guiding light, to explore his passions as the world turs and imbed himsself in our memories for the rest of the days of our lives.
Hell, he might even someday work in a general hospital.
Very, very small price. Mmm hmm, Margaret.
Unfortunately, that price ended up being slightly more than small...
*******
"Hey, I wanna be on a TV show!"
"Me too! What fun! What super sperfendicular fun!"
Shit. Well, he sure hadn't counted on this.
"Guys," he said calmly, holding up his hands in a vain attempt to word off their unexpected enthusiasm. "This isn't about you. You people get to save the world. I don't have anything cool like that to do. So this is about me, k? This is about Alec, the poor unfortunate non-Boy Scout."
Max and Logan looked to each other, silently deliberating over the presented argument. When they once again faced him, Alec knew deep down that things were not going to go according to plan. In fact, they were going to go horribly, horribly awry.
"See, that's all fine and dandy," Max said authoritatively, "but you're forgetting one tiny little detail, hun."
"..."
"I own the equipment," Logan jumped in.
"And I can kick your ass," Max added.
"So looks to me like you gotta do what we say."
"And we want on the show."
"Damn straight."
Alec gulped. This was bad. This was so bad it wasn't even good. "But...but...I already wrote up the script, and...it's...kind of a one-man show..."
"Change it."
Fuck! "But...but...!"
Max glared and raised a menacing fist, signalling the end of the discussion. Well, he could push it further, but that would invite a few hefty doses of pain and pain isn't fun so he gave in and returned dejectedly to his study (yes, kids! Alec has a study!), where he worked through the night to bang out a fairly decent three-person script. Much time was spent sulking, of course, but he eventually decided that it couldn't be so terribly bad. He'd still get his face out there, and they'd see that he could write, too (ooh, bonus!). Yes. Things would continue moving forward. The plan would work, he'd escape Seattle, and he'd be famous. Perfect. Everything would be just perfect.
*******
Production took about a week. The most difficult task was getting Logan to memorize his lines; Alec and Max had photographic memories so it was no problem for them, but Mr. Crusader slipped up once or twice. Didn't do half bad for a norm, though (don't look at me like that! "Ordinary" sounds stupid! They'll always be norms to me, man. Werd. *rapper pose*).
They managed to get everyone involved and it was actually a whole lot of fun. Original Cindy did make-up, Normal designed the costumes, Joshua handled set design, Asha fiddled with the lighting, and Sketchy was responsible for getting the thing on film. It was a blast, man. At one point they even sat around and made up wacky songgs about the show together. Good times. Damn good times.
Then, finally, the big day had arrived, the day the show would be aired publically. Alec could barely contain himself. This was it, this was his fantabulous debut, this was his ticket to Middle Eastern paradise. The offers would be rolling in like contestants in a box car derby. Like parapalegics in a wheelchair race. Like banana splits in...
Gah! I need to stop doing that!
Anyway, he'd be swimming in ridiculous amounts of cash and sex before he knew what hit him. Mmm hmm. Oh yes, Alec; the women won't be able to take their hands off of you, and damn, what a wondrous prospect that is for you.
He sat back in his barcalounger and for a brief instant, he was hit with a rather odd hallucination. There were women in red bathing suits running across the TV screen in slow motion and some guy named Chandler ("how the fuck do I know his name's Chandler?!") was sitting next to him in an identical barcalounger. How crazily strange...oh well. He shook of the bizarre craving he now had for sandwiches and stuffed some popcorn into his mouth as the opening credits of the show began to roll.
...Max Guevara as Aurora Borealis
Logan Cale as Detective Obvious
and Alec Alecson as the Amazingly Wonderful All Around Fantabulously Talented and Beautiful Hunk.
Alec smiled. 'Twas perfection! He settled deeper into his chair and suddenly had the urge to call up Max and Logan and tell them that he was Dr. Drake Ramore from 'Days of Our Lives.' He ignored it. Instead, he turned up the volume.
AURORA BOREALIS: Oh, Detective Obvious! It was so awful! He...he...he took me back to his room, and... *gulps back tears* HE SHOWED ME HOW TO PUT A BOAT INTO A GLASS BOTTLE! *sobs*
Alec chuckled. He'd stoled that from some old play he'd stumbled across. No one would be the wiser. Fools.
DETECTIVE OBVIOUS: Oh, Aurora! That is positively disgusting! What kind of a man would do such a thing?
AURORA BOREALIS: One like this. *shows the detective a picture*
DETECTIVE OBVIOUS: Eww!
CAMERA: *zooms in on picture*
There were a shrief of horror from down the street. Alec clicked his tongue.
"Sorry, Josh," he said absent-mindedly to no one in particular.
AURORA BOREALIS: I know, I know...is there not anything you can do, Detective?
DETECTIVE OBVIOUS: *sigh* No, Aurora. I am afraid that I cannot, for I am just a lowly, unhandsome and unawesome detective. I also have no acting talent whatsoever, and the viewers at home would really be better off just ignoring me. *hangs head in shame*
AURORA BOREALIS: *covers face in hands* Oh, this is terrible, for I too am unbeautiful, have no talent and should be ignored! Whatever shall I do? To whom shall I turn?
THE AMAZINGLY WONDERFUL ALL AROUND FANTABULOUSLY TALENTED AND BEAUTIFUL HUNK: *enters* Is that a damsel in distress I hear?
AURORA BOREALIS: *lights up* It is the Amazingly Wonderful All Around Fantabulously Talented and Beautiful Hunk! The joy! The excrutiating joy!
DETECTIVE OBVIOUS: Oh, thank god that you are here, Amazingly Wonderful All Around Fantabulously Talented and Beautiful Hunk! Aurora and I may be ugly and without talent, but surely you can save the day!
Alec felt a tremor of delight and glee pass through him. Now things were gettin' good...
*******
It had been a week since the show had aired and Alec was at his wit's end. Not only hadn't he received any offers, but every time he stepped outside people started snickering and whispering things that were surely unpleasant. He had also started having incredibly strange dreams in which he lived in an apartment in New York, constantly hung out with the same five friends and was always being introduced by some catchy tune that went "I'll be there for you, when the rain starts to fall," but that's totally besides the point. This was supposed to have been his big break, man. He was supposed to be famous, not the laughing stock of the neighborhood.
Then it finally hit him.
Ever since the show had aired, little kids, teenagers and adults alike had been coming up to Max and asking for her autograph. Normal had been letting her come in late and get off early. Sketchy kept taking her picture and she and Logan kept attending highly secretive "meetings" with "confidential informant type peoples" at night. Something had gone very very wrong; Alec's brilliant plan had backfired. Somehow, some way, Max and Logan had become the stars and he had been left behind, feeding on a newly acquired pastrami addiction.
Consumed with fear and anguish, he raced toward Logan's penthouse, desperate to stop this horrible disaster before it went any further. He couldn't let them get agents. He couldn't let one (or worse, both) of them take his rightful place as Most Spifftacular Star the World has Ever Known. He was quite certain that if either of them signed on to do an actual movie or TV show, it would signal the apocalypse, and apocalypses can REALLY mess up your day. Holy hellbitch, they suck.
When he reached Foggle Towers, he headed for the fire escape, in far too much of a hurry to waste time going through the lobby and using the elevator. This was important, dammit. His film career was on the line.
He made it to the roof of the penthouse and lowered himself in through the skylight in record time, and momentarily he was quite pleased with himself. He was going to show them a thing or two, by golly! They'd never get away with this!
But he was too late. Max and Logan were in the main room, surrounded by cool rich guys in black suits, pens in hand. Alec watched in horror as they each lowered their respective pens to respective pieces of paper that resembled contracts, and fell to his knees as each signed their name. Dammit. Damn it all to hell.
A little voice in the back of his head told him to turn on the charm, go up to each of the suits and say, "how you doin?" With mad rage, he screamed for the voice to shut up and hit himself in the head, falling to the hardwood with a resounding thump.
"What the hell was that?" one of the suit asked. Max and Logan turned to each other, then turned toward the direction of the scream, both taking in Alec's limp form at the same time.
"Oh that's just Alec, the poor unfortunate non-Boy Scout," they said in unison, smiling at each other in awe.
"Dude, we said that at like the exact same time! Kick ass!"
"We are sooo psychically linked!"
"High five!"
"w00t!"
They gave each other high fives, then randomly started doing some nerfty secret handshake until one of the suits cleared his throat.
"Oh...right..." Logan muttered. "Now, where were we?"
*******
~~~~4 months later~~~~
Alec sat in his apartment ("didn't I used to have a house...?") eating pizza and sandwiches, his arm draped over a blonde who was a dead ringer for Jennifer Aniston. Not that he knew who Jennifer Aniston was, because he didn't. He just had this...strange, undeniable desire to accidentally propse to this woman after she had given birth to another man's baby, so, figuring it was his mind's unique way of telling him that she was hot, he'd taken her home. She said she only cared about him as a friend and that she was really into some guy named Ross, but he didn't let that daunt him. He'd have her someday, man. You watch.
"Ooh, I love this show! Turn it up!" she suddenly exclaimed. He obeyed, then promptly groaned and became incredibly depressed. The girl's brow wrinkled in confusion.
"You okay, Alec? Didya eat too much again?"
"Naw, naw...I just...I have issues with this show, that's all."
She laughed and punched him playfully in the arm. "Silly! You can't possibly! Everybody likes 'Wombats by the Lake!'"
Alec rolled his eyes, but he wanted her, and arguing with a woman was no way to get her into bed and then later accidentally propose to her. So he conceded, even as his stomach turned.
"Hello, darling," Aurora Borealis said to Detective Obvious. "How are the wombats?"
"Magical," the detective replied.
The blonde clapped and giggled with delight, while Alec fought the sudden desire to run out and get himself a pet chicken and pet duck. It was all right, though. Everything was starting to feel all right. I mean, Max and Logan were his friends, and he should be happy for them.
Nah.
He grinned and fell asleep with his head laying on top of pseudo-Jennifer Aniston's, dreaming of a girl named Pheobe buying him a drum set and of the loverly day when the Amazingly Wonderful All Around Fantabulously Talented and Beautiful Hunk would exact his revenge.
Muahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha *breath* hahahahaha *gasp* hahahahahaha *wheeze* hahahahahahahahahaha *collapse*
THE END (or is it?! OOOOO!)!!!!
*******
Post.Script: Okay, now for the fun part - the dream.
It was about a week to the day after DA had been cancelled, and I had basically come to terms with that most evil of evil last minute decisions. That night, I dreampt that MW had landed himself a role as a private detective on the mystery series 'Wombats by the Lake.' The gimmick of the show was that for each case, MW's character would consult a group of magical wombats who lived by a lake. Strange as it may seem, it was a huge success. Everybody loved it. In fact, they loved it more than DA (sacriledge, I know!). Anyway, every day he would come home and JA would be waiting for him in a long, white, flowing gown and she'd be lounging on this giant king-size four poster bed. She'd also be holding an empty cigarette holder and be pretending to smoke. When he walked in the door, she would get up, walk over to him and, in a British accent, say, "hello darling, how are the wombats?" He would reply, "magical" and then she'd blow imaginary smoke in his face and go back to bed. Needless to say, I woke up laughing and proceeded to tell all my friends and get them cracking up. Then, a couple weeks ago, I thought "hey, if I did it right, that could be one crazily awesome fic." Hopefully I succeeded. :)
Um, if you're the type of person who's going to take anything written here seriously, I'd suggest running far far away. I loved each and every character in some way for some reason or another (yes, even Asha...I was A/A, dammit!), but as those familiar with my humor fics know, no one is safe from my lampoon. If you were on DA, you're gonna get burned by me one of these days :)
Anywho, that said...I present to you the theatrical masterpiece and international sensation, 'Wombats by the Lake.'
WHAT'S UP WITH THE RATING?: PG-13 for some suggestive content and a strong word or too. Love me, MPAA.
Our Good Friend MR. DISCLAIMER: Do I own? No. Should I? I certainly think so. SELL TO ME, FOX! SELL TO MEEEEE!!!!
*******
It was a dark and stormy night. It felt like the opening of a cheesy murder mystery, but this was post-Pulse Seattle, so most everyone was used to it.
Most everyone, that is, except Alec.
Yes, Alec was rather unhappy with his current living arrangements. Manticore life might have sucked just a tad harder than was comfortable (hehehe, oh the innuendos!), but at least it was dry. And it had lights, man. Working lights, even. A rare commodity in this shoddy rendition of the Real World: Seattle, where Normal caught Asha having sex with Sketchy in the hot tub while Original Cindy watched and...
Okay, we're getting off track. And that there scenario might be slighty exaggerated (keep in mind that "might" is the key word in that sentence!). But the point is, Alec was not your typical grinning Boy Scout. In fact, he was against the entire organization and had even participated in a few protests. Oh Alec, you budding activist, you!
Anyway, he wanted out. He wanted sunshine. He wanted groupies and tabloidal notiriety, and he sure as hell wasn't going to get any of that delivering packages and fueling Normal's bizarre gladiator fantasies. The only plausible way he could think of to get himself out of this veritable hellhole was to become the star of his own TV show. Yes, oh yes. Then Bollywood would know of his extreme wondrousness and fly him on over so that they might put him in all of their movies and plaster his face upon all of their posters and promotional...um...promotions.
But how in the world was he going to get on a TV show? Hmm. That's a toughy.
Fortunately, kids, he had a plan. A very evil plan (those are the best kind, ya know). A plan that involved hijacking...er...borrowing Logan's Eyes Only equipment. Hoo hoo, how devious! Muahahaha! Muahahahahahaha! Muaha... okay that's enough.
Now, to the untrainted non-X5 mind, this would seem like a ridiculously simple task. All he'd have to do is break into Logan's penthouse on a dark and stormy night very much like this one, hack into a few programs, film himself, then strategically release the video to the public at a time when big ass super spiffy execs were sure to be watching. He'd have to do a little digging to know exactly when that time was, but other than that it would be a piece of cake, right?
Wrong.
See, there was no more virus. So Max was spending a hell of a lot more time at Logan's nowadays. They both vehemently denied the rumors, but everybody who was anybody knew they were living together, especially all them transgenic detectives out there. Silly little cheese mongers. You can't slip that kinda stuff past Alec! No siree Bob!
Naturally, this presented a bit of a problem. If he snuck in, Max would catch him. She'd kick his ass. There would be scars. Bollywood doesn't like scars.
So, obviously, what he needed was permission to use the equipment. Preferably written, in contract form, with signatures over X's in permanent ink. There would probably be much paper work and red tape invovled. But that was a small price to pay to be loved by all of India, and probably Pakistan, and many of the artsy folk of Europe. Yes, he would be bold. He would be beautiful. He might even be young and restless. Anything to follow his guiding light, to explore his passions as the world turs and imbed himsself in our memories for the rest of the days of our lives.
Hell, he might even someday work in a general hospital.
Very, very small price. Mmm hmm, Margaret.
Unfortunately, that price ended up being slightly more than small...
*******
"Hey, I wanna be on a TV show!"
"Me too! What fun! What super sperfendicular fun!"
Shit. Well, he sure hadn't counted on this.
"Guys," he said calmly, holding up his hands in a vain attempt to word off their unexpected enthusiasm. "This isn't about you. You people get to save the world. I don't have anything cool like that to do. So this is about me, k? This is about Alec, the poor unfortunate non-Boy Scout."
Max and Logan looked to each other, silently deliberating over the presented argument. When they once again faced him, Alec knew deep down that things were not going to go according to plan. In fact, they were going to go horribly, horribly awry.
"See, that's all fine and dandy," Max said authoritatively, "but you're forgetting one tiny little detail, hun."
"..."
"I own the equipment," Logan jumped in.
"And I can kick your ass," Max added.
"So looks to me like you gotta do what we say."
"And we want on the show."
"Damn straight."
Alec gulped. This was bad. This was so bad it wasn't even good. "But...but...I already wrote up the script, and...it's...kind of a one-man show..."
"Change it."
Fuck! "But...but...!"
Max glared and raised a menacing fist, signalling the end of the discussion. Well, he could push it further, but that would invite a few hefty doses of pain and pain isn't fun so he gave in and returned dejectedly to his study (yes, kids! Alec has a study!), where he worked through the night to bang out a fairly decent three-person script. Much time was spent sulking, of course, but he eventually decided that it couldn't be so terribly bad. He'd still get his face out there, and they'd see that he could write, too (ooh, bonus!). Yes. Things would continue moving forward. The plan would work, he'd escape Seattle, and he'd be famous. Perfect. Everything would be just perfect.
*******
Production took about a week. The most difficult task was getting Logan to memorize his lines; Alec and Max had photographic memories so it was no problem for them, but Mr. Crusader slipped up once or twice. Didn't do half bad for a norm, though (don't look at me like that! "Ordinary" sounds stupid! They'll always be norms to me, man. Werd. *rapper pose*).
They managed to get everyone involved and it was actually a whole lot of fun. Original Cindy did make-up, Normal designed the costumes, Joshua handled set design, Asha fiddled with the lighting, and Sketchy was responsible for getting the thing on film. It was a blast, man. At one point they even sat around and made up wacky songgs about the show together. Good times. Damn good times.
Then, finally, the big day had arrived, the day the show would be aired publically. Alec could barely contain himself. This was it, this was his fantabulous debut, this was his ticket to Middle Eastern paradise. The offers would be rolling in like contestants in a box car derby. Like parapalegics in a wheelchair race. Like banana splits in...
Gah! I need to stop doing that!
Anyway, he'd be swimming in ridiculous amounts of cash and sex before he knew what hit him. Mmm hmm. Oh yes, Alec; the women won't be able to take their hands off of you, and damn, what a wondrous prospect that is for you.
He sat back in his barcalounger and for a brief instant, he was hit with a rather odd hallucination. There were women in red bathing suits running across the TV screen in slow motion and some guy named Chandler ("how the fuck do I know his name's Chandler?!") was sitting next to him in an identical barcalounger. How crazily strange...oh well. He shook of the bizarre craving he now had for sandwiches and stuffed some popcorn into his mouth as the opening credits of the show began to roll.
...Max Guevara as Aurora Borealis
Logan Cale as Detective Obvious
and Alec Alecson as the Amazingly Wonderful All Around Fantabulously Talented and Beautiful Hunk.
Alec smiled. 'Twas perfection! He settled deeper into his chair and suddenly had the urge to call up Max and Logan and tell them that he was Dr. Drake Ramore from 'Days of Our Lives.' He ignored it. Instead, he turned up the volume.
AURORA BOREALIS: Oh, Detective Obvious! It was so awful! He...he...he took me back to his room, and... *gulps back tears* HE SHOWED ME HOW TO PUT A BOAT INTO A GLASS BOTTLE! *sobs*
Alec chuckled. He'd stoled that from some old play he'd stumbled across. No one would be the wiser. Fools.
DETECTIVE OBVIOUS: Oh, Aurora! That is positively disgusting! What kind of a man would do such a thing?
AURORA BOREALIS: One like this. *shows the detective a picture*
DETECTIVE OBVIOUS: Eww!
CAMERA: *zooms in on picture*
There were a shrief of horror from down the street. Alec clicked his tongue.
"Sorry, Josh," he said absent-mindedly to no one in particular.
AURORA BOREALIS: I know, I know...is there not anything you can do, Detective?
DETECTIVE OBVIOUS: *sigh* No, Aurora. I am afraid that I cannot, for I am just a lowly, unhandsome and unawesome detective. I also have no acting talent whatsoever, and the viewers at home would really be better off just ignoring me. *hangs head in shame*
AURORA BOREALIS: *covers face in hands* Oh, this is terrible, for I too am unbeautiful, have no talent and should be ignored! Whatever shall I do? To whom shall I turn?
THE AMAZINGLY WONDERFUL ALL AROUND FANTABULOUSLY TALENTED AND BEAUTIFUL HUNK: *enters* Is that a damsel in distress I hear?
AURORA BOREALIS: *lights up* It is the Amazingly Wonderful All Around Fantabulously Talented and Beautiful Hunk! The joy! The excrutiating joy!
DETECTIVE OBVIOUS: Oh, thank god that you are here, Amazingly Wonderful All Around Fantabulously Talented and Beautiful Hunk! Aurora and I may be ugly and without talent, but surely you can save the day!
Alec felt a tremor of delight and glee pass through him. Now things were gettin' good...
*******
It had been a week since the show had aired and Alec was at his wit's end. Not only hadn't he received any offers, but every time he stepped outside people started snickering and whispering things that were surely unpleasant. He had also started having incredibly strange dreams in which he lived in an apartment in New York, constantly hung out with the same five friends and was always being introduced by some catchy tune that went "I'll be there for you, when the rain starts to fall," but that's totally besides the point. This was supposed to have been his big break, man. He was supposed to be famous, not the laughing stock of the neighborhood.
Then it finally hit him.
Ever since the show had aired, little kids, teenagers and adults alike had been coming up to Max and asking for her autograph. Normal had been letting her come in late and get off early. Sketchy kept taking her picture and she and Logan kept attending highly secretive "meetings" with "confidential informant type peoples" at night. Something had gone very very wrong; Alec's brilliant plan had backfired. Somehow, some way, Max and Logan had become the stars and he had been left behind, feeding on a newly acquired pastrami addiction.
Consumed with fear and anguish, he raced toward Logan's penthouse, desperate to stop this horrible disaster before it went any further. He couldn't let them get agents. He couldn't let one (or worse, both) of them take his rightful place as Most Spifftacular Star the World has Ever Known. He was quite certain that if either of them signed on to do an actual movie or TV show, it would signal the apocalypse, and apocalypses can REALLY mess up your day. Holy hellbitch, they suck.
When he reached Foggle Towers, he headed for the fire escape, in far too much of a hurry to waste time going through the lobby and using the elevator. This was important, dammit. His film career was on the line.
He made it to the roof of the penthouse and lowered himself in through the skylight in record time, and momentarily he was quite pleased with himself. He was going to show them a thing or two, by golly! They'd never get away with this!
But he was too late. Max and Logan were in the main room, surrounded by cool rich guys in black suits, pens in hand. Alec watched in horror as they each lowered their respective pens to respective pieces of paper that resembled contracts, and fell to his knees as each signed their name. Dammit. Damn it all to hell.
A little voice in the back of his head told him to turn on the charm, go up to each of the suits and say, "how you doin?" With mad rage, he screamed for the voice to shut up and hit himself in the head, falling to the hardwood with a resounding thump.
"What the hell was that?" one of the suit asked. Max and Logan turned to each other, then turned toward the direction of the scream, both taking in Alec's limp form at the same time.
"Oh that's just Alec, the poor unfortunate non-Boy Scout," they said in unison, smiling at each other in awe.
"Dude, we said that at like the exact same time! Kick ass!"
"We are sooo psychically linked!"
"High five!"
"w00t!"
They gave each other high fives, then randomly started doing some nerfty secret handshake until one of the suits cleared his throat.
"Oh...right..." Logan muttered. "Now, where were we?"
*******
~~~~4 months later~~~~
Alec sat in his apartment ("didn't I used to have a house...?") eating pizza and sandwiches, his arm draped over a blonde who was a dead ringer for Jennifer Aniston. Not that he knew who Jennifer Aniston was, because he didn't. He just had this...strange, undeniable desire to accidentally propse to this woman after she had given birth to another man's baby, so, figuring it was his mind's unique way of telling him that she was hot, he'd taken her home. She said she only cared about him as a friend and that she was really into some guy named Ross, but he didn't let that daunt him. He'd have her someday, man. You watch.
"Ooh, I love this show! Turn it up!" she suddenly exclaimed. He obeyed, then promptly groaned and became incredibly depressed. The girl's brow wrinkled in confusion.
"You okay, Alec? Didya eat too much again?"
"Naw, naw...I just...I have issues with this show, that's all."
She laughed and punched him playfully in the arm. "Silly! You can't possibly! Everybody likes 'Wombats by the Lake!'"
Alec rolled his eyes, but he wanted her, and arguing with a woman was no way to get her into bed and then later accidentally propose to her. So he conceded, even as his stomach turned.
"Hello, darling," Aurora Borealis said to Detective Obvious. "How are the wombats?"
"Magical," the detective replied.
The blonde clapped and giggled with delight, while Alec fought the sudden desire to run out and get himself a pet chicken and pet duck. It was all right, though. Everything was starting to feel all right. I mean, Max and Logan were his friends, and he should be happy for them.
Nah.
He grinned and fell asleep with his head laying on top of pseudo-Jennifer Aniston's, dreaming of a girl named Pheobe buying him a drum set and of the loverly day when the Amazingly Wonderful All Around Fantabulously Talented and Beautiful Hunk would exact his revenge.
Muahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha *breath* hahahahaha *gasp* hahahahahaha *wheeze* hahahahahahahahahaha *collapse*
THE END (or is it?! OOOOO!)!!!!
*******
Post.Script: Okay, now for the fun part - the dream.
It was about a week to the day after DA had been cancelled, and I had basically come to terms with that most evil of evil last minute decisions. That night, I dreampt that MW had landed himself a role as a private detective on the mystery series 'Wombats by the Lake.' The gimmick of the show was that for each case, MW's character would consult a group of magical wombats who lived by a lake. Strange as it may seem, it was a huge success. Everybody loved it. In fact, they loved it more than DA (sacriledge, I know!). Anyway, every day he would come home and JA would be waiting for him in a long, white, flowing gown and she'd be lounging on this giant king-size four poster bed. She'd also be holding an empty cigarette holder and be pretending to smoke. When he walked in the door, she would get up, walk over to him and, in a British accent, say, "hello darling, how are the wombats?" He would reply, "magical" and then she'd blow imaginary smoke in his face and go back to bed. Needless to say, I woke up laughing and proceeded to tell all my friends and get them cracking up. Then, a couple weeks ago, I thought "hey, if I did it right, that could be one crazily awesome fic." Hopefully I succeeded. :)