So this one just happened because
I saw Kathe's line about Crais' skirt, and you know what happens when Kathe
says something funny about Crais, whoops, a Cordefic is born. That's how I got
my start, 15 fics ago, with a little ditty called "The Importance of Being
Calvin." I'm still not sure if "Calvin" is singular or plural. This is somewhat
of a milestone for me, and I'd like to thank you all for taking this strange
journey with me. Now that you're all asleep, I can start the fic and you won't
throw rocks. Thanks, Kathe, you're the greatest. Maybe if I say that, she won't
remember that I didn't wait for her permission to use her line. Oops.
Yet Another Silly Line Uttered By
Crais As Told To Kathe, Or By Kathe Putting Words In Crais' Mouth, Or Something
Like That Which I'm Not Too Sure Of Because It's Late And I Was Up Late Last
Night Watching Farscape, Yay
Chapter 1
Corde slumped at her keyboard and
sighed. "I must be nuts," she said. "Trying to write Cordefic the day after an
episode like THAT."
Aeryn patted her on the back. "Not
as nuts as the whackos on the X-Files boards who posted the night before the
movie came out."
"Yeah, but at least their fic was
GOOD," Corde said. "Hey, wait a minute, who are you? My Aeryn isn't supportive
and comforting. I've never seen an Aeryn who was supportive and comforting.
What's going on here?"
"Oh shoot," said Saikra, Anthony's
ex-muse. "You found me out. Darn, Anthony will be displeased."
"Why do you care? You left him and
ran off to go shopping with Bongo. Using MY checkbook, I might add," Corde
accused.
**FLASHBACK**
"Whoa, we've never had one of
these before. How does it work?" Corde asked.
Saikra slapped her upside the
head. "Don't you know anything? You get either the wobble effect or the mist
effect, with a sorta voice-over thingy. Duh."
Corde looked at her, impressed.
"Now you're starting to act like Aeryn."
*wobble effect, with a voice-over*
Corde: It was many years ago… no
wait, it was Tuesday. Yeah, okay, last Tuesday I was hanging out at the FaDoP
board…
*cut 'n' paste* (Is it copyright
infringement if you quote yourself from another place? I don't care; I'm not
going to sue myself. If I do, I'll settle out of court and give myself $0.25
and a Vorkosigan book.) (Did you know there is no cent symbol on the keyboard?
I can't find it.)
Okay, so I'm going to a formal
dance in a few weeks, and I'm trying to find a dress to wear, okay? So I go to
open my closet, and it's rusted closed. Hey, I don't go into my closet all that
much, I wear jeans and stuff.
So I had to hunt down a crowbar, and let me tell
you, it was a chore! Those crows don't like to give up their bars. So for
future reference, never try to open your closet during Happy Hour. So I finally
got a crowbar, finished off the Jack Daniels the crows had left, and went at my
closet door.
Twenty minutes later the closet was still closed,
and the crowbar was SMIRKING at me. I decided it was time to call in the big
guns, so I went after my 300lb ex-football player fraternity president
philosophy major brother. He grumbled a lot, but I reminded him of his tattoos
that I know about and our parents don't and he caved.
So he came into my room, grunted, took a stance
and GLARED at the closet. The closet door then did the logical thing and died.
My brother lumbered off (presumably in search of beer) and I was able to move
the corpse of the closet door over enough to get to my *ahem* dress (yes,
that's dress, singular, I had to wear it to my cousin's wedding three years
ago, it's horrid and will NOT fit, but it's the only one I have). And what do
you think I saw?
*
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*
*
*
*
*
*
BONGO! He was wearing my dress and PRANCING around in my heels! Dear friends,
this was a shock to say the least. I confess that I am ashamed of my muse. My
dress is MAROON VELVET! Bongo is brown! Now, not that I have ANY fashion sense,
but even I know that monkeys can't wear maroon velvet! He knows better than
that! So I told him to take it off and I would get him a nice blue and green
plaid skirt with a jaunty little beret to match...
So now I have to go shopping for a new dress. Bugger.
The saddest thing? Even as bad as Bongo looked in my dress, he still looked
better than me.
