Opportunity
After months of reluctance and some nudgings from neighbors, a brief personal crisis and God Himself, Caim and Angelus finally paid a visit to Theed. Utilizing a parental baby harness for hands-free child handling, the family ventured into the capital to see what all the fuss was about.
More advanced than anything from their home universe, but nowhere near the urban sprawl found on the core worlds, the pact partners were pleasantly surprised by the overall cleanliness and spaciousness of the roads, most of them wide enough to allow a dragon to stomp about comfortably. And one other benefit of a modern Republic city was that everyone's too busy to stop and take notice of a fearsome twenty-foot long wyvern. That's not to say the trio didn't get their fair share of gawkers and gossipers, plus one nosy amateur journalist and their cameraman that needed to be shooed off with a fireburst, but they were for the most part respectful, a far cry from the fearful mobs they had originally suspected to meet upon touching down. Just shows the kind of resiliency built up over decades of calamity (and I mean, come on, they're my people).
When they reached the inner city there were no waiting crowds of onlookers, no welcome party hosted by the royals or local authorities, and that suited them just fine. Caim did check in with military administrations for openings, but otherwise the family marveled at the architecture, ate local foodstuffs and even took a fly-by around the grandiose falls at the city's edge. Overall a splendid grand-ole time! But the metro scene often leaves a lingering impression, usually opening up new ponderings or changes in one's attitude and outlook.
Though what came next for the pair was waaaay out of left field!
"I want to thank you again for allowing me into your lovely home."
It happened nearly a week after their trip to Theed. A surprise video call introduced them to a Baxter Mondelier, who wanted a meet-and-greet to discuss a "proposition". With nothing else going on, they permitted a visit to their domicile in four days' time.
Mr. Mondelier gave off the same impression in-person as he did via holo-screen: that of a jovial tomato. His natural roundness and ruddy face was enhanced by the redness of his dress: a three-piece suit that would give a bull conniptions. A head of green would have completed the image perfectly, but instead he bore a very slick scalp of tidy chestnut hair and an immaculate goatee. Had they been gray he'd have looked like a Kentuckian Santa Claus (he definitely sounded the part).
Sitting in the chair that was making the herculean effort of holding together, he smiled at his hosts.
"And it is a very darling abode, I must say," he continued as Caim brought over tea (some of Prissy's personal stock). "All the bare necessities for uncomplicated yet comfortable living. Certainly something I wouldn't mind having in my retirement."
Did you wish to come here to spout niceties and nothing else?
"Oh I do apologize; I didn't mean to wear your patience. I just have this propensity of verbally casting compliments to just about anyone with an ear. Most people who know me would say it's a tactic for buttering up clients, but it's really just my disposition." He brought up the tea to take a refreshing sip. "My this is good. Well, onto business." Putting the cup down he said, "In our video call I told you of a proposition, though I believe it'd be better to impart some clarity firsthand to clear up whatever mystique I may have made."
Whatever will get us closer to the point.
"You see, I represent an advertising agency based in Keren by the name of Promegrechts Branding, or PB as most folks call it. We deal in producing advertisements for a variety of big name clients, as you might surmise. Anywho, as it so happened last week, while in the midst of brainstorming for our latest ad campaign, I chanced to see you both and your darling son wandering around Theed on the evening news."
(Although Angelus managed to scare the amateur journalist out of sight, that didn't stop them from filming the family's movements from a safe, undisclosed distance, then submitting the footage to whatever stations they could find. The kid's got guts, I'll say that much)
"Now me and my colleagues were fully aware of your residency here on our dear planet, and that you were keeping to yourselves. Living the quiet life and all. So it was a surprise seeing you taking in the sights of our fair capital. What did you think of it?"
Rather interesting and well-kept structures, although I'm more interested in knowing what any of that has to do with your being here.
Even Caim was looking impatient on the topic.
"Onto the crux, then." The agent leaned forward, the chair groaning in agony. "Seeing you out and about in public got me wondering if you had become interested in getting more involved in our global community, then right away I thought up the very thing to help you out: holovision!"
Holovision?
"That's right. I won't mince words any further, Angelus: my agency is about to begin filming a commercial, and I say you would be perfect for the role I've cooked up."
Role?
Caim gave Angelus a quick rundown of what the bulbous businessman was offering.
He wants me to act? What kind of "commercial" would want a dragon as a performer?
"A sizable amount, but the one I have in store is very fitting for our latest client. You see, the commercial we're making is for Burger King: a notable name in the fast-food industry, if you weren't aware. Good selection of affordable meals; I'm particularly fond of their chicken fries. But their claim to fame is the flame-broiled Whopper, their signature burger. The aim of our commercial is to emphasize the 'flame-broiled' aspect of the Whopper as a reminder of its distinction from similar dining establishments. This can be done a number of ways, however I settled on a more medieval slant. And nothing's more medieval than a bonafide, honest-to-goodness dragon."
Mr. Mondelier pushed himself out of the chair, standing tall and broad as he narrated.
"Imagine, if you may, a working-class Joe stepping into a Burger King, hot off the noontime streets and craving a hot, satisfying burger. He reaches the counter and finds the register is manned by a majestic crimson dragon, the living definition of her species. Her towering form leaves the fellow awed, yet she takes his order for a Whopper with dignity and nobility. Not only that, but she serves it up herself, right before his eyes: a single quarter pound patty, charred to perfection with one fiery breath. And that's what Burger King offers that others don't: burgers so richly cooked, it's like they're blessed by dragon fire." The agent reeled in his arms. "That's the angle I'm going with, anyway. It'd be no quibble to whip up a dragon and say how-do-you-to and be done with it nowadays, but why settle for generic CG when you can showcase a genuine living dragon who also happens to be local? That's where you fit into this captivating picture, Angelus."
So your proposition is to parade me around on those loud moron screens like a circus animal.
"Oh heavens forbid and all the Contractor's inner circles, ma'am! You would be a legitimate actress, the star of the show. Under PB's supervision you would be as looked-to and pampered as a princess during the whole shoot, if you so desire. It'd be downright outrageous for us not to do so after the courtesy you've shown me this day. Speaking of which." He reached over for his tea to wet his whistle. "Pure quality; you really should tell me where you got this. Now, would you be interested in having a taste of show business?"
Hardly. What worth is there in peddling entertainment when there are far more important matters at hand?
"Oh I understand you perfectly, ma'am. You are a mother after all, and there are draconic duties that need fulfilling no doubt. But I'm not asking for an extended commitment. Just a single day of your time, really only a few hours, which you will be compensated for in credits or whatever form of payment or service you prefer. Afterwards you can chalk it up as a one-time experience that you can brag to all your friends about. Or you could catch the acting bug, who knows?" A fussy squalling filled the air as everyone looked in the direction of the up-to-then ignored crib. "Sounds like my cue to get out of your hair. Here's my card with contact details." A fancy flicking of the fingers produced a card which he laid atop the table. "The shoot won't be for another few days. Ample time to consider, but there's no worry if you decide not to: we will go with the artificial alternative if need be. Either way, I hope to hear a response from you soon. I'll see myself out."
The agent trundled up from the dining space and stopped at the door. "Thank you again for lending your ears, and have yourselves a stellar day."
With an effort the rotund representative squeezed himself through the doorframe and out of the couple's sight. But not out of mind.
I cannot picture myself in that position.
Caim brought up the agent's proposal while feeding Nowe his formula some time later. Unsurprisingly, Angelus still wasn't sold on the idea.
Doesn't that image strike you as absurd? Me, an embodiment of calamity, prancing about a stage for the amusement of simpletons? Utterly degrading!
It couldn't possibly be as bad as that, Caim argued. The minstrels and play actors back in his princely days seemed to enjoy it, as far as he could recall.
I see no enjoyment in lowering myself to the level of a knowing fool.
You won't know for sure unless you try, her husband minded. And it would only be a single day thing; could make for an interesting change of pace.
I didn't like that man's insistence, though. Something about it reeks of the Contractor's meddling, especially with how he invoked his name. Even if all that god does is supposedly in our best interest, I'm about a my limit with him!
This probably isn't Contractor's doing, Caim thought to her. The deity typically labels his involvement in glaring fashion; that his name had been mentioned was likely a coincidence.
You seem awfully insistent on my accepting this proposal as well. Do you want to see me do tricks for your amusement?
No; it just seemed like something neat to do. Though he couldn't lie that seeing his dear Angelus follow stage directions would undoubtedly be amusing. Angelus let out a sigh.
It's disheartening how little people here regard me as a threat, openly approaching me and conversing and propositioning like I wasn't capable of ripping off their faces with one glance of a tooth. But it's the life I've chosen, and I must bear with whatever humiliation for the sake of a harmonious existence.
It really shouldn't come to that, Caim reiterated as he went about patting his boy's back. Plus, he continued, she wouldn't have to face it alone: he could tag along. Don't see why he can't participate as well. And if the whole thing is too boring or belittling, they could set fire to the place and spend the afternoon elsewhere, just the two of them. Either way, it'd make a momentary break from parental duties.
Yes, that in of itself is appealing. And Yulie is always willing to step in… Fine, we will contact him. At least learn where this "shooting" will be to see if it's even worth going to.
Nowe burped and giggled as any accomplished baby would, winning a smile from his father.
But only after I tend to our shameless little gnome first.
Caim nodded, getting up out of his easy chair to bring the babe to his mother. He placed him lightly on the floor by Angelus, who lowered a wing talon to prop the child up. The dragoness lowered her snout to give him a sniff, focusing her eyes on his chubby beaming face.
You have fed well this time, my little one. Now digest, fortify, and grow…
Angelus gently placed her chin atop her son's head and, beginning with a low hum, she uttered the words.
The dragons of Midgard had long been feared as avatars of destruction, all-powerful, the pinnacle of nature's fury given wings. Yet these murderous beasts had served the gods since the dawn of creation, and as such they were privy to certain divine machinations. For instance, the medium through which their very history is passed down. The very same medium capable of altering, destroying and creating the fabric of reality itself: Song.
Hers was one of fire and ruin, desolation rendered by her race. Their strength, their triumphs, their sorrows, their disillusionments and demises. Allegiances forged and broken, the struggles of all things that walk the earth, too weak to ascend. But she interwove encouragement for her listener as well in that ancient tongue: of the might and mastery to be inherited, the promise of dominion, and of the support provided not just by her, but the very intertwined blood flowing through his small form. That of a warrior, and of the true rulers of the world.
Nowe couldn't help but be lulled to slumber by so sweet and comforting a lullaby.
Located on the shores of Lake Varum, Keren has long been Naboo's most important trading center (if the tabletop fluff is to be believed). Home to one of the planet's major spaceports, it consequently housed plenty of the criminal element: arms dealing, smuggling, illicit pharmaceuticals, insider trading, crypto speculation, that sort of nefarious s***. But most of that has been cleaned up in recent years to make way for a burgeoning holovision industry. Alongside merchants and architects, holo-actors and writers have come aplenty hoping to springboard into a cosmos-spanning career because, hey, just about everyone gets their start on the small screen.
Being among the more lucrative agencies, Promegrechts Branding naturally had its own filming studio in the outskirts of town among the major film lots, and its main soundstage was abuzz with activity and tempered excitement. Much of the center floor space was made to look like the interior of a Burger King, with chairs, tables and even tiling, though lacking a ceiling and having sheets of green for the walls. Gaffers, lighting guys, aids and so forth hustle to and fro around this slapdash space to get things in order on the technical front, and in the middle of this meticulous whirlwind, behind a serving counter, lounged the great crimson star herself, studying a script that was clipped to a wingtip.
Moseying on over to her came Mondelier in a sporty polo shirt khaki ensemble that made him look like a golf ball set in a sno-cone holder. Stopping before the dragon he hailed, "You memorizing those lines alright, Angelus?"
I memorized this paltry text days ago; I'm merely reading to pass the time until you drones finally get on with things.
"Spoken like a true professional, although there's no shame in having some first-time jitters. We're all a team here, ready to help at the drop of a credstick."
When you have faced the likes of the Wyrm, there is little else that can terrify you. And the one individual who can support me is over there, so put your concern elsewhere.
"Right, nothing like a good spouse for that emotional support. I just know Caim is gonna get a kick seeing you shine." Mondelier caught sight of something. "Ah, there's Claude coming right over now."
A fussy man barely past thirty paced over to the two, carrying a tablet in one hand and scratching the black hair jutting from under his ball cap with the other. "Is she all good to go, Bax?" He asked in a rush, which didn't dampen the return grin and nod.
"Ready as a starving gungan in a banana grove."
"Great, wonderful, we can get back on schedule." Clapping his hands the director shouted, "Alright gather round people it's showtime!"
The crew did so, keeping quiet as their director spoke. "Okay, the set is all set if that's to be believed, so we're gonna start shooting. Real short and simple, starting with a quick rehearsal round. Ben?"
An actor dressed like an office worker stepped forward. "Yeah Claude?"
"Take your spot, limber up and await 'action'."
"Gotcha. Good luck, Angelus," he said to the dragoness before moving aside, oblivious to her annoyed grunt as the director went on, "Swell swell. So now Angelus."
What?
"Straighten up for me, dead center with the counter." Angelus dropped her script and rearranged herself as directed. "Get nice and pronounced. Head up high… not too high. You're in a Burger King; don't want to go busting the ceiling."
This level of pretending is becoming absurd. Why not do this in an actual restaurant if you want authenticity?
"Quicker and more private this way, dear," Mondelier explained. "And while I would adore having this shot in a genuine store, the plain simple fact is that there's none that can accommodate your impressive size. That might change after this airs, however."
I don't suppose your tech wizardry could conjure up an illusion to make it seem real?
"Holograms are too finicky for their freakish cost," the director said. "Okay, you're looking peak. We're gonna run through the first few lines up to when you cook the order and stop there. Sound good?"
Yes.
"Good. Everybody clear the set and take position, we're about to roll!"
Everyone but Angelus dispersed to their designated spots around the filming zone. Mondelier wobbled over to the crafty table, taking a seat in a reinforced chair beside Caim, who's been watching the bustle in silence for the past fifteen minutes.
"The moment we've been waiting for. Ready to see the kind of acting chops your beloved has?"
Caim signed that he was very interested to see how it played out, and that he was confident in her ability. All the agent got out of that was a nod, which was enough for him. Across the room, the director was seated by the camera, ready to do his job.
"Quiet on the set! Dragon commercial rehearsal shot, we're rolling aaaaand action!"
The "office worker" entered the faux restaurant, passing tables filled with extras as he made for the serving counter, reciting his lines.
"Ugghh, today's just been so bland. I need to liven it up somehow."
He finished the monologue right as he reached the counter, and immediately froze as he stared into the smoldering eyes of the terrible dragon looming over him like a guillotine.
Perhaps it is fire that you seek, sir.
The actor stood transfixed, shuddering, beads of sweat popping up helplessly.
…Perhaps it is fire that you seek, sir?
"Um-bub-buh-um-uh-buh…"
"Cut!"
A piercing ring as everyone got into motion, particularly the director. "This is why we do the rehearsal shoots," he muttered to himself as he got up to the quivering actor. "Ben, what's going on, man?"
Angelus diverted her gaze, instantly snapping her co-star's trance. "Ah, I don't know. She just, looked straight into me and I locked up. I'm real sorry about that."
Few humans can withstand the searing gaze of their natural masters. Consider yourself fortunate you haven't been rendered insane.
"Okay, no direct eye contact then," Claude concluded. "Ben, focus on the tip of her nose, and you Angelus just look at the top of his head; it'll look fine enough."
"Yeah, gotcha," Ben said before going back to his starting spot.
"Quick thing, Angelus," the director said. "Your delivery was good, but the tone is too… strong. Menacing."
I'm a dragon; that's precisely how I'm supposed to sound.
"Well try toning it down a little. A little softer, more welcoming. Demure-like."
Demure? Do I look like I can evoke demure?
Perhaps with some choice praises and caresses, came a telepathic remark from the sidelines.
Oh shut it, Caim!
"Do what you can. Alright, from the top!"
Hurrying back into his chair, the director shouted, "Dragon commercial rehearsal shot two, we're rolling aaaaaand action!"
Once again our disheartened office drone walked through the dining room voicing his lament, stopping at the counter and the awaiting dragoness.
Perhaps it is fire that you seek, sir.
"What do you mean?"
Nothing motivates quite like heat, and nothing harbors it as well as a flame-broiled Whopper.
"Cut!"
Another ring, another pow-wow between director and actors. "Okay that went far better. I'd say downright perfect."
Speak for yourself. Only after saying it out loud do I realize how contrived and unnatural this dialogue is. The quality of human scribes has dropped awfully between dimensions.
"It is a commercial we're making here, not a documentary. But we can maybe see about workshopping the lines later; we're focusing on getting the flow right for the actual recording."
How many more times are we to do this?
"It varies, but from how you two did it, I'd say not much more than a dozen."
Hmph. I suppose I can bear with that amount of monotony.
"For what it's worth, I think the lines are fine, Claude," Ben said, rather late.
"You're a champ, Ben. Okay, let's switch over to the grilling part, get that squared away. Monica!"
The director waved over an aid carrying a platter of raw but well-shaped meat patties. She hurried behind the counter and ducked out of sight into the space before Angelus's belly.
"Monica's gonna toss up the patties you're gonna be frying, Angelus," Claude explained. "You wait until they're up to face level then light it up. Don't worry about getting bapped by meat, Monica's a pro. Up for a quick test?"
Sure.
"Superb. Toss it!"
A meat puck came flying up before Angelus, who just had enough time to let out a fiery puff. The fire engulfed the patty and spread over part of the countertop, the heat wave making the director back away. Crew armed with fire extinguishers hurried over to put out the small fires that had sprouted on the floor, although the counter was only mildly scorched. The same couldn't be said for the brick of hardened ash lying atop it, though.
"Guess you can call that one a real scorcher," Mondelier said with a chuckle from the sidelines as his director pal waved off smoke with his hat.
"Oh yeah, big laughs, Bax. Nothing like a studio fire to tickle the funny bone. Definitely paid to put in for the reinforced props." He went up to the counter and picked up the sad patty with his fingertips, examining it briefly before tossing it aside. "You wanna reel back the output a tad, Angelus, and kill the heat somewhat. We want edible, not charcoal."
Dragon fire is meant to raze and obliterate, and the amount of settlements and humans my very own has reduced to ash is innumerable.
"So you have no way of turning it down?"
I've never had a reason to.
Try letting it out more like a sigh, suggested Caim.
Alright. I will try again.
"Good. Toss up!"
Another meat patty, this one met with a smaller and less fierce ball of flame. A less blackened disc hit the counter, pleasing Claude's eye.
"Yeah, that's better. Think you can manage one more notch?"
I suppose.
"Toss!"
Another patty for the burning, and miraculously enough it came out with the same black and brown coloration as your typical Burger King burger… although not set in the same pattern. Or any pattern.
"Alright, that should do. Since we're at this, we may as well record the cooking portion and get it over with. If you can do this in one take, we can spend the rest of the shoot on the talking bits."
Oh what joy.
"Ben, come right over here."
The actor got into position before the counter, looking a bit tense given he was standing in the firing line if something like an inopportune sneeze were to happen. But like any professional he bore with it and stood his ground while everyone else got out of the shot, the director taking up his spot beside the camera.
"Patty will be up at the sound of 'action', Angelus. Dragon commercial, cooking shot, take one, aaaaand action!"
The patty went high, and an effortless flame burst produced another cooked brown circle that looked appetizing from a distance and went plap on the counter. Impressively enough, Ben hardly flinched as it happened.
"Cut, print! That was beautiful, good stuff," Claude called out. "That takes care of the most technical part of the shoot, well done."
"A born natural, that wife of yours," the agent said rather loudly. "Who needs to bother with a pyrotechnics team when she's on the scene? She must be a favorite at barbecues."
Caim signed that they actually never attended one, but the idea of having Angelus cook for the neighbors may be worth trying out.
I'm not your kitchen slave!
Just for a bit of fun, he assured her.
Thus far you appear to be the sole one belittling me this day.
"Let's switch back to the opening dialogue. We might be able to knock it out before lunch." Right then a person draped in a blue muslin cloak wheeled out a cart loaded with covered silver platters. "Uhh excuse me, we're not doing the Whopper shots yet so back on out."
"I'm only making a quick delivery for the crew, sir," the person said.
"Oh. Then wheel it over to the crafty there and leave it."
"I'm afraid that won't do, good director. Because…" With dramatic flair the caterer threw off their cloak. "Journalism is best served sizzlin' hot!"
Standing there on set was none other than that intrepid journalist mentioned earlier, alight in their cerulean blazer and snazzy kilt as "Looker's Theme" inexplicably filled the air. From under the cart the journalist's cameraman rolled out and sprang up with camera primed, just as his boss produced a reporter's mic.
"Pace Lozange, reporting from within Promegrechts Branding's flagship holovision studio, where Naboo's citizen dragon Angelus is making a bid for stardom. But could this be a case of aspirational execs playing with literal fire?"
"Oh for god's sake, security!" shouted the director while everyone else appeared too stunned by the sudden exposé and thumping tunes.
"Paparazzi already? That's a bothersome something," the agent remarked casually from his seat. "Though I'm impressed it's happening this early, and this deep within the building."
"Here with me are the co-actors involved in today's super-secretive shoot, ready to dish out their opinions." The journalist went to a table with extras and stuck their mic into one lady's face. "How does it feel working alongside a fire-breathing dragon, ma'am?"
"Oh, uh, fairly good. Though, honestly, it's more like any other—"
"Don't you feel the least concerned for your well-being, knowing that a fiery demise is only a fingersnap away? Or have you forgotten, like so many other Nabooians, the terrible danger these creatures posed just earlier this year?"
"I-I hadn't considered that; there's been no danger at all today. Well, aside from what just got filmed, but that's over with and now we're—"
"Don't answer any more of their questions, Lacy! Where's security?" Claude demanded with dwindling patience.
Hold on. You're that irksome pest from Theed with the inane questions.
"Ah! It's the star herself, Promegrechts' shameless bid to stand out in the oversaturated advertisement market." Pace whirled around and got themself up before Angelus, holding up their mic as their cohort followed and raised their camera in suit. "Is your big debut making you feel nervous? Have you perhaps been coerced into performing to avoid the insidious retaliations that only an unscrupulous corporation can flaunt?"
I said I would ignite you if you didn't leave us alone, and now you have the gall to seek me out and question me like our first encounter never happened?
"Gotta stick to my profession, Angelus, and the people want answers. So are you in fact an unwilling puppet of the marketing barons, or have you grown tired of the hermit lifestyle and are seeking to break out in a big way?"
The only thing that will be breaking is you as I crush you underfoot!
With a terrible flap Angelus vaulted over the counter, shaking up the studio as she gave chase after the rascally interviewer and their tagalong, who kept filming on the run.
"Don't go spewing fire; not everything here is fireproof!" said Claude, voicing his sole concern in the scuffle.
Fire is too quick a death for them; my jaws rending their flesh will effectively drive my lesson home!
"Erm, far be it from me to butt in on these matters, but shouldn't you go and help her?"
Caim shrugged and nodded at the agent's suggestion, thinking it was about time he had something to do, then he leapt from his chair and dashed into the fray with sword in hand to help his enraged love chase the intruders out and hopefully minimize damages in the process (the operative word there being "hopefully").
With the journalist ousted, the rest of the shoot went swimmingly. In fact, almost true to Mondelier's guarantee, the whole thing was wrapped up only a few hours past noon, allowing the pact partners ample free time to explore Keren before the onset of evening. The city struck them as an artisanal port town but little less, so they casually meandered, took in the sight of the bordering lake, then flew off for home to relieve the babysitter.
Several weeks later, the premier of Angelus' commercial was at hand! Their gracious agent/sponsor of course sent an invitation to a private executive screening, good for them, their child, and two additional guests! The pair were still in that tentative, not entirely chummy-wummy phase with their neighbors (in spite of being on Naboo for the better part of a year), so they didn't have any immediate candidates in mind. Yet instead of just coming over alone, they settled on bringing along Yulianna (their outgoing go-to babysitter and Prissy's darling niece) and Mr. Dyllan Quyns (just happened to be available). Why waste two open spots, y'know?
The screening was to happen at a reserved pavilion outside of Keren, where casual drinking and unwanted schmoozing directed toward the dragon of honor were had. Soon enough everyone settled down for the premier, which ran thusly:
A dreary-looking office worker enters a busy Burger King. "Ugghh, today's been such a drag. Something needs to liven it up already," he bemoans, and is immediately answered with,
Perhaps a little fire will help with that, sir.
The cubicle jockey looks up and beholds a great red dragon behind the counter, making no effort at softening their natural glower.
"What do you mean?"
I'm thinking something sizzlin' hot to put that pep in your step, and nothing delivers quite like a fiery flame-broiled Whopper!
A patty flips into sight, and the dragon spits a gout of flame that cooks it instantly. A quick cut shows the patty landing on a prepared bun along with other toppings, neatly piled as though by magic.
Give it a try.
Office worker does so, taking a bite and filling with life. "Wow; that's something else!"
Plenty more where that came from. That is, if you care to live a little.
A totally computerized wink from the dragon.
"Uhh, I think I'll just stick with the Whopper, thank you."
A parting tagline from a disembodied voice:
"Burger King: Get Your Heat On!"
"Woo! That was brilliant, Angelus!" Yulie said amid the dying applause from the execs.
"Short, sweet and captivating, as any good hook should be," Mondelier lauded.
"That Whopper looked good as well; you went and got me sold, Angelus!" Dyllan joked. "I didn't know your voice could sound so bubbly."
That's because it cannot: that wasn't my voice! You didn't tell me you would change that as well you gutless playwright!
"Telepathic speech doesn't exactly translate onto audio, so a dub was necessary," the director Claude explained matter-of-factly. "And the new voice resonates better with average viewers. Nothing snags ears like a sweet voice."
But it makes me sound like I'm barely an adolescent! I command you to restore my natural voice this instant, and also rid me of that moronic wink!
"Can't: it's been sent to all the major broadcasters and will air by lunchtime tomorrow. Nothing short of leveling every one of them is gonna stop this."
Then that's what I am going to do! I cannot be made a laughingstock because of an idle whim!
"Oh it's nothing that terrible," Dyllan said. "If anything it makes for a good public image, to show that you're really a warm and helpful dragon at heart."
Demeaning is what it is, portraying me like some airheaded server.
If it's that worrisome, there's still the claws, sharp teeth and fire to instill terror, Caim reminded her. The husbandly assurance was fortified with some neck pats and a sending of loving vibes that eroded her outrage like the tide. Though not completely.
I still should have been consulted about this.
"We'll remember that the next time," Claude said brusquely.
"You hear that? You're being billed for more roles!" said Yulie.
As if! That's all the acting anyone will get out of me.
And that was no exaggeration: Angelus never starred in another production of any kind ever again (except a few school plays, but those don't really count). As for the commercial, it was well received by the general populace and did raise Burger King sales for a time, but it eventually faded from the collective psyche like any other piece of consumable media… save for one.
Upon seeing it one listless afternoon, a certain socially-awkward college graduate was hit with inspiration and threw himself into writing a story so contrived yet gratifying enough to garner mass-market appeal the moment it got published online. Its rapid popularity drew the attention of Keren's animation circles, and years afterward Dragon Is A Part-Timer would be cited as a cornerstone of the "isekai" sub-genre.
Angelus knew not of this property's existence, much less her part in its creation, and that's probably for the best. If she thought the dub given her in the commercial was demeaning, then her old heart couldn't handle the concept of "kawaii".
