Yes, I realise this is kinda like my Morgan The Vampire Slayer fic, in being yet another crossover, but it's not quite the same is it? Anyway this was a challenge set by my mum. The challenge didn't have to be set in a Sweep fic, but it had to include 1. Sooty taking up dark magick and 2. Sue dying a horrible death. Both of which fit quite nicely with my usual style :-)
P.S. To any American people. Sooty is a British kid's TV show. It compromises four small glove puppets: Sooty, a yellow teddy bear; Little Cousin Scampi, or Scampy, a tiny bear dressed in school uniform; Sue, a highly annoying panda bear; and Sweep, a little grey dog who communicates in squeaks, often ends up taking the blame for things and is sooo cute and the bestest glove puppet ever! DISS SWEEP AND DIE! And that's about all you need to know really.
P.P.S. I realise this probably isn't my best fanfic, but bear with it. I want to make the next chapter a whole lot better if possible.
The full moon shone in through the tiny windows of the main conference room for the Wicca Council, leaving a silver trail across the stony black floor. Somewhere outside a werewolf howled (before it was promptly called in using a dog whistle). The thirteen main members of the Council each sat around a huge table, robed and hooded in black, their faces obscured in thick shadow. The air was still, and ice cold with apprehension and suspense...
"Has no-one got that bloody boiler fixed yet?" remarked Eoife, shivering.
"Oh, nice one Eoife, way to break the DRAMATIC TENSION," said another hooded figure sarcastically.
"Does no-one else think we should kick her out?" asked Hooded Figure No.3, who appeared to be chewing his/her nails. "I mean really, the whole secret identity thing? It's cool and all but every time she opens her mouth we know exactly who she is, what with the strong Scottish accent thing."
Eoife glared. Unfortunately, no-one actually realised because her entire face was hidden by the hood.
There was a long pause.
"But seriously though," said Hooded Figure No.7, "if we are the most powerful witches in the entire world, how come the boiler hasn't been fixed yet?"
"There are some things," said the dark and menacing shape of Hooded Figure No.1, "that even magick cannot influence."
"Including getting hold of a plumber when you need one," added Hooded Figure No.2.
Hooded Figure No. 9 perked up. "I know, it can be an absolute NIGHTMARE on a Wednesday morning, there was this one guy at my friend's sister's house-"
"Now, to the matter at hand," Eoife interrupted, and waved a hand towards the scrying bowl on the table. They all leaned in to watch the pictures that flickered on the water's surface.
"Oooh, widescreen, VERY flashy," remarked Hooded Figure No.5.
"Does it get digital?"
"It's WATER dipwad, of course it doesn't get digital."
"How come we had money for a widescreen scrying bowl, but we still haven't got the heating fixed yet?" came the plaintive voice of Hooded Figure No.7 again. They all ignored him/her.
Eoife pointed to a spot in the bowl. "See there? That's the new Dark Power arising."
"It just looks like a re-run of Sooty and Sweep to me," Hooded Figure No.3 commented.
The other coven members nodded sagely.
"Classic episode that," said Hooded Figure No.4 wistfully.
Eoife swore loudly in Scottish and passed her hand over the scrying bowl again, to no effect. Ignoring the sniggers from the rest of the other Council members, apart from Hooded Figure No.4 who was absorbed in Sooty and Sweep, she took an athame out of the pocket of her robes and waved it over the surface of the scrying bowl, muttering a spell chant in Gaelic as she did so.
Nothing happened.
"Sorry everyone, something must be interfering with the reception again..." she mumbled, looking at her shoes.
"I think not," said Hooded Figure No.1, rising from his seat at the head of the table to lean in for a closer look. "I think the scrying bowl is telling us exactly what we wanted to see."
"Sooty and Sweep?"
"The new Dark Power arising. We've known for years that Sooty is actually a powerful blood witch. In fact," he continued, "he was Head of this Council for a time, before he was swallowed up by the television networks."
"Head of this Council? But - how can SOOTY be a blood witch?" asked Hooded Figure No.7, who never knew when to shut up.
"On his mother's side, I believe."
Hooded Figure No.7 wasn't THAT dim. He/she gulped and didn't press the matter.
"But what are WE going to do about it?" Hooded Figure No.2 enquired.
"Absolutely nothing."
"Nothing?"
"Look where he's heading."
Hooded Figure No.2 peered over some of the other figures and smiled. "Ah. Widow's Vale!"
"Exactly," smirked Hooded Figure No.1. "And that, if I'm not mistaken, means ENTERTAINMENT. Now, while we're waiting, would someone please go and call a plumber about that boiler?"
Meanwhile, in Widow's Vale...
"Mor-gan!" howled Hunter. "Please?"
There was no reply. Morgan had flounced off and bloody well left him stuck to the ceiling.
He sighed and fidgeted a little, trying to remain the cool and dignified British guy while being stuck to the ceiling. It was a trick not many can pull off, and Hunter couldn't. He sighed again and stared despondently at the floor waiting for Morgan to come and undo the spell. Preferably before Sky got home.
He really should stop arguing with Morgan like this, although he had to admit it probably was better than having an athame sent into his neck.
It had started with cats. Hunter was a dog person. He didn't even LIKE cats. Yet Morgan loved the stupid things...Bet she never stuck THEM to the ceiling. He'd only kicked Dagda once, while feigning the ol' oops-accidentally-tripped-over-the-cat look, but he had lived to regret it.
Just then Morgan poked her head round the door.
"Sweetie!" he cried desperately, paddling madly in the air. "Please let me down now!"
Morgan smiled. He knew what was coming next. Please no...
"Apologise," she said.
Hunter pouted. "But he started it!"
"I don't care who started it," Morgan growled. "Apologise. Now."
Maybe he could have done it. Just maybe he could have said sorry to her, and come down off the ceiling, if Dagda hadn't happened to follow his mistress in. The small grey kitten started to purr and Morgan immediately cooed some illegible word of baby talk and scooped him up. Dagda stared malevolently at Hunter from Morgan's arms.
"NOOO!" screamed Hunter. "NEVEEER!"
"Fine," said Morgan, pursing her lips. "I hope you stay up there." She waved her arms, chanted some Gaelic and Hunter began to feel slightly cold around his nether regions. He looked down. Sure enough, Morgan had completed his humiliation. She gave him a triumphant look and strode out of the door.
Five minutes passed.
The doorbell went.
Please no, thought Hunter. Please don't let it be Sky. She still hasn't forgiven me for the time I found her having drunken sex with Killian and laughed my head off afterwards...
Sky walked in.
"Hunter?" she called. "Hunter?" Then, she went to go upstairs and look for him and one of his feet brushed her head. Puzzled, she looked up.
"Oh my goddess, Hunter!" she sniggered. She sniggered a little more and promptly doubled up with laughter. She laughed and laughed until the tears streamed from her eyes.
Hunter began to sob. His cool British dignity was somewhere down on the floor, about the same place where Morgan had left his pants.
And alas, little did Morgan know that this would leave her without the only two people who could help her in the next battle...
Just the first chapter folks: more Hunter humiliation, evil glove puppets, pissed off Morgan and hopefully a few Alisa and Mary K murders coming up!
OMG! I wrote a Wicca fanfic and didn't take the chance to kill off any of the annoying characters! Right, that's it, I HAVE to write another chapter now.
P.S. To any American people. Sooty is a British kid's TV show. It compromises four small glove puppets: Sooty, a yellow teddy bear; Little Cousin Scampi, or Scampy, a tiny bear dressed in school uniform; Sue, a highly annoying panda bear; and Sweep, a little grey dog who communicates in squeaks, often ends up taking the blame for things and is sooo cute and the bestest glove puppet ever! DISS SWEEP AND DIE! And that's about all you need to know really.
P.P.S. I realise this probably isn't my best fanfic, but bear with it. I want to make the next chapter a whole lot better if possible.
The full moon shone in through the tiny windows of the main conference room for the Wicca Council, leaving a silver trail across the stony black floor. Somewhere outside a werewolf howled (before it was promptly called in using a dog whistle). The thirteen main members of the Council each sat around a huge table, robed and hooded in black, their faces obscured in thick shadow. The air was still, and ice cold with apprehension and suspense...
"Has no-one got that bloody boiler fixed yet?" remarked Eoife, shivering.
"Oh, nice one Eoife, way to break the DRAMATIC TENSION," said another hooded figure sarcastically.
"Does no-one else think we should kick her out?" asked Hooded Figure No.3, who appeared to be chewing his/her nails. "I mean really, the whole secret identity thing? It's cool and all but every time she opens her mouth we know exactly who she is, what with the strong Scottish accent thing."
Eoife glared. Unfortunately, no-one actually realised because her entire face was hidden by the hood.
There was a long pause.
"But seriously though," said Hooded Figure No.7, "if we are the most powerful witches in the entire world, how come the boiler hasn't been fixed yet?"
"There are some things," said the dark and menacing shape of Hooded Figure No.1, "that even magick cannot influence."
"Including getting hold of a plumber when you need one," added Hooded Figure No.2.
Hooded Figure No. 9 perked up. "I know, it can be an absolute NIGHTMARE on a Wednesday morning, there was this one guy at my friend's sister's house-"
"Now, to the matter at hand," Eoife interrupted, and waved a hand towards the scrying bowl on the table. They all leaned in to watch the pictures that flickered on the water's surface.
"Oooh, widescreen, VERY flashy," remarked Hooded Figure No.5.
"Does it get digital?"
"It's WATER dipwad, of course it doesn't get digital."
"How come we had money for a widescreen scrying bowl, but we still haven't got the heating fixed yet?" came the plaintive voice of Hooded Figure No.7 again. They all ignored him/her.
Eoife pointed to a spot in the bowl. "See there? That's the new Dark Power arising."
"It just looks like a re-run of Sooty and Sweep to me," Hooded Figure No.3 commented.
The other coven members nodded sagely.
"Classic episode that," said Hooded Figure No.4 wistfully.
Eoife swore loudly in Scottish and passed her hand over the scrying bowl again, to no effect. Ignoring the sniggers from the rest of the other Council members, apart from Hooded Figure No.4 who was absorbed in Sooty and Sweep, she took an athame out of the pocket of her robes and waved it over the surface of the scrying bowl, muttering a spell chant in Gaelic as she did so.
Nothing happened.
"Sorry everyone, something must be interfering with the reception again..." she mumbled, looking at her shoes.
"I think not," said Hooded Figure No.1, rising from his seat at the head of the table to lean in for a closer look. "I think the scrying bowl is telling us exactly what we wanted to see."
"Sooty and Sweep?"
"The new Dark Power arising. We've known for years that Sooty is actually a powerful blood witch. In fact," he continued, "he was Head of this Council for a time, before he was swallowed up by the television networks."
"Head of this Council? But - how can SOOTY be a blood witch?" asked Hooded Figure No.7, who never knew when to shut up.
"On his mother's side, I believe."
Hooded Figure No.7 wasn't THAT dim. He/she gulped and didn't press the matter.
"But what are WE going to do about it?" Hooded Figure No.2 enquired.
"Absolutely nothing."
"Nothing?"
"Look where he's heading."
Hooded Figure No.2 peered over some of the other figures and smiled. "Ah. Widow's Vale!"
"Exactly," smirked Hooded Figure No.1. "And that, if I'm not mistaken, means ENTERTAINMENT. Now, while we're waiting, would someone please go and call a plumber about that boiler?"
Meanwhile, in Widow's Vale...
"Mor-gan!" howled Hunter. "Please?"
There was no reply. Morgan had flounced off and bloody well left him stuck to the ceiling.
He sighed and fidgeted a little, trying to remain the cool and dignified British guy while being stuck to the ceiling. It was a trick not many can pull off, and Hunter couldn't. He sighed again and stared despondently at the floor waiting for Morgan to come and undo the spell. Preferably before Sky got home.
He really should stop arguing with Morgan like this, although he had to admit it probably was better than having an athame sent into his neck.
It had started with cats. Hunter was a dog person. He didn't even LIKE cats. Yet Morgan loved the stupid things...Bet she never stuck THEM to the ceiling. He'd only kicked Dagda once, while feigning the ol' oops-accidentally-tripped-over-the-cat look, but he had lived to regret it.
Just then Morgan poked her head round the door.
"Sweetie!" he cried desperately, paddling madly in the air. "Please let me down now!"
Morgan smiled. He knew what was coming next. Please no...
"Apologise," she said.
Hunter pouted. "But he started it!"
"I don't care who started it," Morgan growled. "Apologise. Now."
Maybe he could have done it. Just maybe he could have said sorry to her, and come down off the ceiling, if Dagda hadn't happened to follow his mistress in. The small grey kitten started to purr and Morgan immediately cooed some illegible word of baby talk and scooped him up. Dagda stared malevolently at Hunter from Morgan's arms.
"NOOO!" screamed Hunter. "NEVEEER!"
"Fine," said Morgan, pursing her lips. "I hope you stay up there." She waved her arms, chanted some Gaelic and Hunter began to feel slightly cold around his nether regions. He looked down. Sure enough, Morgan had completed his humiliation. She gave him a triumphant look and strode out of the door.
Five minutes passed.
The doorbell went.
Please no, thought Hunter. Please don't let it be Sky. She still hasn't forgiven me for the time I found her having drunken sex with Killian and laughed my head off afterwards...
Sky walked in.
"Hunter?" she called. "Hunter?" Then, she went to go upstairs and look for him and one of his feet brushed her head. Puzzled, she looked up.
"Oh my goddess, Hunter!" she sniggered. She sniggered a little more and promptly doubled up with laughter. She laughed and laughed until the tears streamed from her eyes.
Hunter began to sob. His cool British dignity was somewhere down on the floor, about the same place where Morgan had left his pants.
And alas, little did Morgan know that this would leave her without the only two people who could help her in the next battle...
Just the first chapter folks: more Hunter humiliation, evil glove puppets, pissed off Morgan and hopefully a few Alisa and Mary K murders coming up!
OMG! I wrote a Wicca fanfic and didn't take the chance to kill off any of the annoying characters! Right, that's it, I HAVE to write another chapter now.