Stale Artichokes By: Tara (edited and posted by Twist) Editor's note: Tara dahling wrote this for me for my birthday. Such a loving friend. *grin* I found it so amusing I put it into regular, normal form and corrected the spelling. I also added some stuff for fun. Please don't kill me Tara.

Disclaimer: We don't anyone. We just borrowed them. We'll give them back.

*

The scene begins in a dark room. Well, sort of dark. There's a bit of light. In the room stand a young girl with straight dirty blonde hair. She's wearing on of her trademark 5000000 pairs of flip-flops. Incidentally, it's the pair with the monkeys on them. The other person in the room is Havelock Vetinari.

"I will . . ." said a mysterious voice, presumably the narrator, ". . . eat stale artichokes."

The girl, known to everyone as Tara, glared at the ceiling. "Dude, that is not your line," she growled. Vetinari was playing with her Gameboy Advanced.

"I know," snapped the narrator. "But it's better than saying 'I ate a baby' in the Fat Bastard voice. Seriously, where are you going to fit stale artichokes into this thing? Really."

Tara smacked her forehead. "You are taking me too literally. That is supposed to be completely random, alright? May we continue?"

"Ah, I get it," said the narrator.

"Good. Are we clear?" Tara clapped her hands. "All right, everybody! Let us take it from the top!"

"I ate a baby!" said the narrator in a very good impression of Mike Meyers in Fat Bastard mode.

There was a pause. And silence.

Across the room Vetinari was playing Crash Bandicoot with his left hand and snapping his fingers with his right hand. Audible over the annoying video game song is the opening to 'Lady Marmalade.'* "Hey sistahs, soul sistahs . . ." Vetinari suddenly became aware of the silence. He looked up and at Tara, whose face startled even him a little. "Is it my turn, then?"

"Yes!" Tara screamed. "Now say your stupid line, you insolent piece of cow dung!"

At that moment, saving her friend from almost certain death, Twist showed enough presence of mind to run into the room and tackle the Patrician. "No! You mustn't make fun of him!" she yelled, snuggling up next to him. Vetinari shrugged and kept up with the GameBoy. "It isn't nice," she pouted.

Tara was no doubt about to make some sort of cutting remark or vomiting noise, when, quite randomly, Lady Selachii appeared.

"Greetings," she said, "I have-eth come-eth to thee in hope-eth that I might-eth have a quite intriguing job as what you Americans call-eth a 'mistress-eth.'"

Vetinari stared. " She found almost too much pleasure in that one, didn't she?"

"Yeah, I would think so," Twist said, lying on top of her fictional man. "You'd be so much sexier if you were shorter, you know that?"

"You're only saying that because you're 5' 2". I can't help it." Vetinari was still playing GameBoy.

Tara seemed to have given up on her play. "Screw the play, you guys." She suddenly brightened. "Everyone get down with their bad selves! Selachii, you're in charge of the music!"

Everyone, bar the narrator and Lady Selachii, stared. Finally, Vetinari spoke. "What the hell are you on?"

"Oh, right," Tara said, reconsidering her choice of DJs. "Perhaps . . . alright, Twist, get your very individual funk on."

"Okies!" Twist said, bouncing up. There was silence and then a voice from backstage cried: "This music sucks! Where, may I ask, is any Eminem? Or at least some Lynrd Skynrd."

"Twist, just put something on," Tara said, sighing and rubbing her temples. "I don't think Havelock here wants to listen to Eminem." Havelock began to rap very badly from across the room. It sounded almost like 'Without Me.' "Alright, well, just put something on."

"Okies!" Tara rolled her eyes as her friend was heard dropping things and tripping over herself. Finally, Sir Mix Alot's 'I Like Big Butts' blared over the invisible speakers. After a few verses, Lady Selachii asked a question.

"What is this 'horny' they are singing about?"

"It means - " started Havelock, but was cut off.

"If you don't know, don't ask," Tara replied shortly.

"Twist, do you want to roll in my Mercedes?" Vetinari asked, as Twist flopped back onto the ground next to him.

"Bring it, Havvie," she said. The following has been edited so that you, the reader, are not permanently damaged and Terry Pratchett does not come after either Twist or Tara with a pitchfork.

In the meantime, Vimes has appeared. "Do you want-eth to roll-eth in my Mercedes?" Lady Selachii asked him.

"I don't want none unless you've got buns, hun!" He then spent the next minute or so wondering where that had come from.

"I ate a baby!" exclaimed the narrator.

"Dude, I gave up on the play," Tara replied. "It's over."

"All rightie-o then!" the narrator said, cheerfully. There were a few moments of calm. The auditorium was silent except for the music and some restricted noises coming from the corner Twist and Havelock had managed to get themselves to. Then . . .

"I ate a baby!"

"Shut up, dude, the play is over!" Tara screamed at the narrator.

"Where are the Pixie Stix?" Vetinari asked, exiting the corner and straightening his shirt. He also made an attempt make his hair cooperate, which made it stick up more. Nummy.

Tara paled. "I forgot the Pixie Stix! Dudes, we're all going to die!"

"No, it's 'Dude, you're getting a Dell!' And we are not going to die," Twist said, scoffing. She snapped her fingers and lo, a rain of Pixie Stix.

*2 Hours Later*

"Como te llamas-?" Vetinari asked Twist, giggling insanely. She'd been making an attempt at teaching the man Spanish. This did not work, however, because Twist herself was hyper as well.

"Me llamo-, uh, Benjamin Franklin?" After saying this she giggled for about a minute.**

"Twist, I had no idea!" Tara exclaimed.

"I ate a baby!" the narrator shrieked among fits of giggles.

"Wow, there is this fantastic feeling running through my body!" Lady Selachii exclaimed, bouncing up and down.

"I believe," Vimes said, giggling at his own impression of Ponder Stibbons, "that this is the feeling that one may call 'hyper.'"

And so the chaos went. The whole fiasco lasted for about an hour before the sugar highs wore off and Twist couldn't conjure more Pixie Stix. And so everyone left. Several minutes after the last person's departure, a lone voice said shyly:

"I ate a baby?"

The End

A/n: As I was re-typing this I began to realize that this may not be funny to other people outside my circle of homies. I dunno. Prove me wrong and I might even update while I'm on vacation! You lucky people, you. ~

*No idea if that's how it's spelled.

**Doesn't sound long, does it? Well, you just go on and try giggling for a minute straight. I'll watch. Go on.

-Translations: 'What is your name?' Answered with: 'My name is . . .' and the rest is English.