The LAOAFVFTDOEIE: Now Accepting Applications! Chapter 3, a x-overs fanfic

A/N: I've never seen Orphen's real name written out, so I guessed. Sorry if I got it wrong. This is your brain. (Holds up brain.) This is your brain on novels. (Draws smiley face on brain.) This is your brain on Math. (Draws frustrated face on brain.) This is your brain on drugs. (Draws unhappy face on brain.) The moral of this story? NEVER LET SOMEONE REMOVE YOUR BRAIN AND DRAW FACES ON IT! GEEZ! (Tosses brain over shoulder and leaves.)

The LAOAFVFTDOEIE – Now Accepting Applications!
Chapter 3 – Hartia

"Bring in the next candidate."

Melkor opened the door. "Next candidate!"

In confidently strode a dark-blue clothed young man with shoulder-length, red hair, a dragon pendant, and freckles. He glanced around, seeming a bit confused, then settled on a classic arms-folded Bad Guy Position in front of Raistlin.

"Name and profession." Blachloch waited, his quill poised in the air.

"Hartia. Wizard of the Tower of Fang."

"He's got freckles!" Dilandau whispered. "Bad guys don't have freckles!"

"The little boy with no pigment shouldn't criticize," Queen Mab hissed.

Blachloch began to write, then looked up. "Hartia as in heart the organ, or hart the rabbit?"

Hartia looked momentarily taken aback. "Uh…hart the rabbit."

"Another wizard," Dilandau muttered. Queen Mab elbowed him.

"We're a fantasy organization! How many members do you think we'll find who aren't wizards?"

"I'm not a wizard." Dilandau jerked a thumb at himself.

"Nobody knows what you are," the witch shot back. "Can't even pick a gender and stick with it."

Dilandau sat up. "Hey! I told you, that was NOT my fault!"

"Silence!" Raistlin ordered; then a coughing fit overtook him, blood staining his lips. "Eeeeews" chorused from the rest of the High Council o' Much Evilness. Raistlin wiped the blood away with the sleeve of Dalamar's robes, and returned his attention to Hartia. Sang-Drax conjured a can of Lysol and silently passed it to Dalamar.

"So, you wish to join the LAOAFVFTDOEIE?" Raistlin asked. Hartia opened his mouth to speak, but Raistlin interrupted him. "No, don't answer that, fool! It is a rhetorical question! Why would you be here if not to join us?"

"I don't know," Hartia answered.

"That was rhetorical too! Young man, this interview is not getting off with a good start!"

Raistlin paused. A white haze had begun to fill the room with a loud hiss. The archmage glared at Dalamar, who stopped spraying his arm and sheepishly pushed aside the can of Lysol. Dilandau grabbed it and burned it in a glorious fireball.

"Tell us, Hartia," Sauron began, "what evil doings have you committed that would qualify you for the LAOAFVFTDOEIE? Gods, that's a long acronym! We need to change our name!"

"Bring it up at the next assembly," Raistlin told him.

Hartia thought a moment. "Evil doings? Uh…" He straightened. "My mission is to recover the Sword of Baltanders and prevent Krisanelo from turning the Bloody August into a human!"

"Sounds like a Good Guy's mission to me." Sesshoumaru flexed his fingers threateningly.

"No! No!" Hartia held up his hands to ward the dog-demon off. "You see, the Bloody August is a human who got turned into a dragon! So, the Good Guys are trying to turn her back, and I'm trying to stop them!"

"Not the most evil mission I've ever heard of," Blachloch said, toying with a gilt-edged Death card.

Hartia whimpered. "I'm new at this!"

Dilandau yawned. "Let's kill him."

The door flew open, and inside leapt a toad-demon carrying a staff with two heads upon it. "Lord Sesshoumaru will be President!" Jaken cried, bringing the staff around. Raistlin pointed.

"Kalith karan, tobanis-kar!" A magic missile shot through Jaken.

Raistlin eyed Sesshoumaru. "So, you wish to usurp my position?" The dog-demon shrugged.

"Don't we all?"

"I don't, Shalafi," Dalamar said.

"Liar." Raistlin turned him into a black rabbit.

Pirotess rose. "I'll get rid of it."

"Just toss him out the door," Sesshoumaru called. "He'll survive." Pirotess hauled Jaken up by his collar and chucked him out the door, knocking the hat from Captain Hook's head and possibly giving the readers some foreshadowing of chapters to come.

Raistlin picked up Dalamar the Bunny. "Have you learned your lesson?" Dalamar the Bunny nodded. "Good." Raistlin placed Dalamar the Bunny in his chair and turned him back into an elf.

Hartia drew himself up to his full height, which was either scrawny or impressive depending upon whom he stood next to. Compared to a small child, Hartia was a giant. Compared to a telephone pole, mountain, or other such tall object, Hartia was a skinny dwarf with no beard. Clearly, he was of average height. Either way, he possessed a mouth and a set of vocal cords, and he employed them now.

"Do not misjudge me! I am more powerful than any of you may suspect!"

Raistlin smiled, and the other members of the High Council o' Much Evilness cowered in fear. "Prove it. Mab?"

"It would be my pleasure." With a thought, the witch summoned the most terrible, horrifying, and generally un-aesthetically-pleasing creature she could imagine without throwing up.

"Pika!" The electric rat beamed at Hartia. "Pikachu!"

The red-haired wizard recoiled. "It's hideous!" The rest of the High Council o' Much Evilness nodded their agreement.

"Get rid of it," ordered Blachloch, who had gone rather pale himself.

"Pika!" Pikachu scampered toward Hartia, who frantically thrust a hand in the air.

"Take me up!" As if hurled from a giant slingshot, or perhaps a gnomish toaster, Hartia sprang up to land on a rafter in the ceiling.

"An odd cantrip," Sauron noted. "But apparently effective."

"Pikachu!" The rat/lemon/Duracell cross-breed looked up at Hartia in confusion.

Sweat trickled down Hartia's face as he crouched on the wooden beam. "I can't do it! It's too hideous!"

"Guess we'll have to kill him, then." Dilandau reached for his sword.

"No! Wait!" Hartia took a deep breath.

The lights all went out, the only illumination coming from the great, flaming Eye seated next to Melkor. A spot of glowing crimson appeared in midair, growing brighter, brighter; now it took form—a giant mousetrap! It landed softly next to Pikachu, and the idiot Pokemon was just witless enough to investigate. The trap snapped shut and exploded in a shower of tiny, plastic Hello Kitty figurines that dissolved upon impact with the ground. With a gasp of "Chu!" Pikachu flopped over, kicked several times, and bit the dust. Dilandau enthusiastically applauded the explosion.

Hartia floated himself down from the ceiling—the spell gave out halfway and he landed in an unceremonious heap. With a gesture from Melkor the torches re-lit.

Raistlin glanced at the other members of the High Council. "What do you think?"

"He hasn't done anything very evil yet," Sang-Drax commented.

"But he has a lot of potential!" Dalamar argued. "And he faced and slew Pikachu without fainting!" The others nodded slowly.

Melkor cleared his throat. "How dost the High Council vote?" Eight evil laughs and one psychotic giggle resounded through the room.

Melkor turned to Hartia. "Congratulations, thou hath passed. Step forward and enter the ranks of the wicked!"

The High Council o' Much Evilness stood as Hartia approached, relief plastered across his face like peanut butter down a much-used stairway railing.

Raistlin set upon the table a large, black tome. "You will place your left hand upon the spellbook and raise your right in a fist."

"Sesshoumaru, please demonstrate," Dalamar added. Sesshoumaru glared at him. Dalamar snickered.

Hartia followed the order, left hand upon the spellbook, right clenched in an upraised fist.

"You will repeat the Creed of Tyranny," Raistlin instructed. "I, Hartia-"

"I, Hartia-"

"-do hereby pledge to kill whomever I please-"

"-take whatever I like-"

"-achieve my ambitions at any cost-"

"-especially if they involve the downfall of others-"

"-provide no explanation for my actions-"

"-and cut down all Good Guys where they stand."

Cheers erupted from the High Council o' Much Evilness, along with the throwing of red-and-black confetti.

Melkor led Hartia to the door. "If thou wilt follow Cool Mint—he doth be just outside the door, the one with the scarf on his head and the rose that art killing that guy—-he shall take thee to be registered and make thy membership card." Cool Mint led Hartia away. "Next candidate!"