Trichess--MST!!
by Cavalier the Sonic Assassin AKA Artemis Prime
**TC’s notes: Ms. Arty was gracious enough to donate this to the Bad Fic Gallery and for that, TC salutes you! Muchas gracias! Enough blah, let’s get to it…
Party Krashers, Inc.: The Movie
A Mystery Science Theatre 3000 Adaption
of the fanfiction Trichess by Magic
MiST by Cavalier the Sonic Assassin
artemisprime@allspark.com
MiST note: This was fate. After uploading Belief Module to Lexicon, Charl let me know that I pretty much had the longest Transformers fanfiction on Lexicon, quite possibly all of the Web, the second longest on Lexicon being half the size of Belief Module. So I pretty much vowed to find out which one the second longest fanfiction was and MiST it. It turns out it was the classic Trichess by Magic, a popular writer and talented artist and good friend of my "twin" Stormrave/Tempest/Mary Pletsch. And so, with encouragement from my boyfriend Weed/Brian Vigue and Tempest's fiance Zodiac/Dylan Blacquiere, I decided that an epic like this deserves to be in a grand fashion of a movie. So here, I present to you, PKI: The Movie!
CAST OF THOUSANDS (Or at least it seems like it)
CYRWAY: the demented mind behind this project.
MONDO GECKO: From TMNT Adventures/Mighty Mutanimals.
BROOKLYN: From Disney's Gargoyles
MALIBU: From Disney's Gargoyles
ARIN MACDUFF: Gargoyles fanfiction character
STARSCREAM: From Transformers. Beasties version fanfiction.
ARTEMIS/PANTERA: Transformers fanfiction character
DAVIS: From O2 Digimon
GIR: from Invader Zim
GOURRY GABRIEL: from Slayers
QUATRE: From Gundam Wing
TASUKI: From Fishugi Yugi
WASHU: From Tenchi Muyo!
BASS: From Megaman
ORKO: From He-Man and the Masters of the Universe
*music begins with a Generation 1 Season 3 montage type intro, the music, obviously the Theme to the Satellite of Love but in the industrial type music of G1 Season 3. The montage includes all the creativity demons, not just Gecko and Brooklyn.*
In the not-to-distant future
somewhere in the dregs of space
Cyrway and her gang of demons
were picking up their pace
To get away from Demona's evil scheme
they found a spacial rift within a dream
but Fate ripped a paradox fart
that tore the fabric of the multiverse apart
(GIR: "It's gonna explode!" *giggles maniacally*)
STARSCREAM: I'll find her fangirl fanfics,
The worst I can find!
GIR: Lalala!
STARSCREAM: I'll force her to sit and read them all
And I'll watch them melt her mind!
GIR: Lalala!
Now keep in mind Ace can't control
when the fanfics end or begin
The demons join in so she won't be alone
when the insanity sinks in.
(GIR: Demon Rollcall! YAY!!!)
MALIBU!
(MALIBU: Pay no attention to the dude behind the camera!)
ARIN!
(ARIN: Give me Octane/Sandstorm shonnen ai, or give me death!)
MONDO GECKO!
(GECKO: Moonie smut! Moonie smut!)
BROOOOOOOKLYN!
(BROOKLYN: What's with all the "o's?")
If you wonder where the demons all came from
you'll have to read the FAQ
GIR: Lalala!
Just remind yourself this is only a fic
so you really should relax
For Mystery Science Theatre 3000!
*Countdown*
Gecko is in bed, snoring away, his arms wrapped tightly around the pillow. On the walls are various punk and metal band posters and pin up girls. A knock on the door arouses him from his sleep.
GECKO: *slurred* No, Principal, I didn't spike the punch! *Shakes his head and sits up, pressing his hand to his head.* Argh...hangover city. *Aloud* What is it?
BROOKLYN: Get out of bed! We're being called!
GECKO: Frell that! Ye gods, must we bend at the knee every time your step-mom calls us? Dammit, Brook, you of all people should know better than to succumb to Demona's bitchings! We should stand up against her and show her who's stronger! Together, we can defeat her!
BROOKLYN: It's not her; Ace is still working on hacking the propulsion units and wants to have a meeting.
GECKO: *blinks* Oh, that should be interesting. *Jumps out of bed and pulls on a pair of jeans. Grabbing a shirt, he bolts out of the room, knocking Brooklyn over in the process.* YeeHAH! We're going home!
BROOKLYN: *follows Gecko, a little less enthused.* I'll wait until later to tell him about the strays we picked up.
Cut to the engine room. Cyrway is sitting crosslegged on a console, with a "Transwarp Engines for Dummies" book open, skimming it. In her hand is a wrench. Eventually, the demons trickle in, all groggy and in various degrees of waking up.
CYRWAY: *still looking at her book.* Okay, boys, here's the lowdown. I managed to strip the engine and rebuild it using parts from the inarositor from "This Island Earth" and some other bits and pieces I pulled out of TrailorSpace and some more parts from Sandrock...I think this will work.
DAVIS: *yawns, with Demiveemon sleeping on his head.* Meaning we're gonna blow up if we try this?
CYRWAY: Ye of little faith.
QUATRE: *shakes his head in sudden realisation.* You used parts of Sandrock--
CYRWAY: All for the good of the collective, Quatre, I assure you. Now, there is a tiny chance of all of us getting blown up into itty bitty atoms, but it's well in the acceptable risk range, so I wouldn't be too worried.
TASUKI: *goes to say something, only to fall asleep on Quatre's shoulder.*
CYRWAY: *closes her book and jumps down from the console.* Any questions before we head up to the control room?
GECKO: *raises his hand somewhat.* Can we go back to bed?
CYRWAY: Any other questions that pertain to the situation?
DAVIS: If you get blown up, can I have your Team USA autographed soccer ball?
The demons trudge into the control center, where Arin, Starscream in his Maximal form (duct taped to a chair), and Gourry are sitting, watching the view screen. GIR is hopping around, dusting.
GOURRY: Oooohhh...look at all the stars...
ARIN: You're cute when you're stupid, you know that, dear?
GOURRY: Why, thank you! *beams.*
CYRWAY: Arin, prepare the boosters! Brooklyn, ready the transwarp coil! Gourry, look cute! Tasuki, damn the torpedoes! Starscream, shut the hell up!
DAVIS: *as everyone else around him falls back asleep.* Starscream's gagged, Ace.
CYRWAY: Minor setback. All right, gang...let's go hyperactive!
BROOKLYN: What the hell did you smoke for breakfast?
ARIN: Going hyperactive!
GOURRY: Going hyperactive! Yay! *Starts dancing with GIR.*
GIR: Lookit us! We're dancing like jellyfish!
Exteriour shot: The Satellite of Love elongates, then vanishes into a wormhole. Interiour shot: Lost in Space (1999) effect of everyone frozen in time, either yawning, snoring, frightened, estatic, or dancing. There is a loud boom and everyone hits the ground, disorientated.
GIR: YAY!!! Can we do that again?
BROOKLYN: *groggy* Where are we?
ARIN: *shakes her head and starts typing into the keyboard.* Can't say, luv...none of these stars are matching anything in our charts.
GECKO: You mean Cyrway's crazy invention sent us somewhere in the uncharted territories? *Blinks and looks around.* Hey, when did we pick these guys up?
WASHU: Well, it took him long enough to notice us, didn't it?
CYRWAY: Minor setback. I'll have to have Washu take a look at it. Easily negated as soon as we find a Peacekeeper planet.
GECKO: *deadpan* We're a crew full of bandits, rogues, pirates, and nutcases. We're NOT going to find help from a military outfit.
ARIN: Ease up, blokes, we've got another problem. Even if these were the uncharted territories, we wouldn't be getting these readings--wait a minute... *Studies her screen.* Aw, frell...you're not gonna believe this.
CYRWAY: What is it, Arin?
ARIN: *turns to the group, her eyes wide in horror.* We never left the position we were in; instead, we warped into the Evil Alternate Universe.
Group shot of everyone looking horrified as dramatic realisation music plays loudly for an extended period.
GOURRY: So, what does that mean? *Everyone facefaults.*
GECKO: Meaning we're screwed up the arse with a chainsaw.
The yellow light flickers just as everyone is ready to kill Cyrway. Only GIR notices it.
GIR: Oooooh! Flashing light! *To Cyrway, who's backing up from the demons.* Can I eat that?
GECKO: You were built from an Insecticon drone, weren't you?
CYRWAY: What? We're being called? *Frantically.* GIR, on screen!
GIR salutes, then flings himself onto the view screen. Arin rolls her eyes and hits the yellow button. The imposing figure of G1 Megatron appears on the view screen, which causes everyone to halt what they're doing and stares at the screen.
MEGATRON: *with a wide smile.* Hello there! My name is Megatron. What's your's?
GECKO: Don't fall for that! I've seen War Dawn plenty of times to see that he only wants to take over the ship internally!
CYRWAY: *smacks him.* Dude, look, we're in the Evil Alternate Universe.
BROOKLYN: Meaning we're probably in SNAD-ville.
CYRWAY: Correct.
STARSCREAM starts banging his head against the console with muffled screaming.
CYRWAY: *to Megatron, in a fake Sebacean accent.* I am Commander Ace Cyrway of the Peacekeeper Leviathan Satellite of Love. We were in a battle with Romulan birds of prey, and in the process, they managed to destroy our navigation systems--
BROOKLYN: However, we can assure you our weapon systems are fully functional.
CYRWAY: --We would appreciate it if you could aide us in sharing your current star charts so that we could be on our way home; we do not wish to be any trouble to your sector.
MEGATRON: *broad smile.* But of course! We would be happy to assist you! It is a good thing that the evil Autobots did not get to you first, they might have attempted to trick you into doing something not very nice.
CYRWAY: *deadpan.* Imagine that. *Resuming Peacekeeper Commander mode.* Is there anything we could do to return the favour--
MEGATRON: *his attention off screen.* Nightbird, my love, prepare download. *Back to the screen.* Why, as a matter of fact, in our archival processes, we had come across some Terran texts, and was hoping for translations. Perhaps you have the faculties to translate these for us.
GECKO: *under his breath.* Oh no...fanfiction alert....
MEGATRON: This one was originally written into German, then translated into English. It is called "Trichess," by the lovely and brilliant Magic. If you read it, then I would give you the star charts you need to return home.
BROOKLYN: We have little choice.
CYRWAY: Maybe it's not so bad--
GECKO: And "Dying of the Light" was Starscream's crowning achievement.
STARSCREAM continues to scream, beating his head against the console. ARTEMIS, in her Pantera/Maximal form, sits crosslegged on the console behind him, cheering him on.
ARTEMIS: You've got to have braincells first before you can destroy them, flyboy!
CYRWAY: Okay, we'll agree to your terms.
GECKO: And I will become the new commander of the ship after it is done.
BROOKLYN: If we survive the fic. *Shakes his head.* Wait, I'm Ace's second!
MEGATRON: Excellent! Download commencing!
The red light and the klaxon blare around them.
CYRWAY: WE HAVE FAN FIC SIGN!
*Countdown.*
GECKO: I swear, Ace, when this is over, the others are so gonna kill you.
BROOKLYN: And resurrect you. And kill you. And resurrect you.
<B>Trichess</B>
GECKO: Isn't that the game that's played on Star Trek?
By Magic
BROOKLYN: Didn't you leave the Gargoyles fandom because of too much magic in the stories?
CYRWAY: Let's just get through this without insulting me, please?
LEXICON'S COMMENT:
Thanks very much to Rachel Walker for formatting this fanfic!
ALL THREE: DINOGRRL! YAY!!!
* * *
PROLOGUE
She was a young woman, one like a thousand of others.
GECKO: All belonging to the Decepticon Dominion.
And she loved a man.
BROOKLYN: "With blonde hair and a tan."
But this man was a fiction,
GECKO: "She dreams in digital!"
a comic figure, a cartoon character
ALL THREE: "We are the cartoon heroes, whoa! We are the ones who're gonna last forever!"
who had been invented by a comic book artist, once.
GECKO: It's Andy Wildman versus Pat Lee in the bout of the millennium, folks!
CYRWAY: And here comes Geoff Senior with a run-in, welding a chair!
He was not even human, he was a robot, a machine with a computer as a brain.
ALL THREE: "Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto!"
He was not one of the good-guys.
CYRWAY: It wasn't as frowned upon until they made Greedo shoot first.
On the contrary, he was the leader of the bad-guys - cruel, hungry for power.
GECKO: Well, if Mace Windu never killed Jango Fett, perhaps Boba would have been a nice accountant on Tattooine.
However, she loved him.
BROOKLYN: You know, they have stuff to help that.
GECKO: Electro-shock treatment?
Her heart beat faster when she thought of him. She knew the other side of his personality: the tender, the vulnerable.
CYRWAY: *as Amidala* It's all right, Ani...you may have killed those Tusken Raiders out of revenge, but I forgive you.
He was just fiction, a fictitious character...
GECKO: Hey, Cyrway, you had a crush on Raph for the longest time, remember?
CYRWAY: I was twelve at the time, and I got over it. *Grumbles* Baka.
However, somehow she felt as if she could talk to him in her thoughts, like in a telepathic connection. It was curious, their opinions often differed, and the emotions she seemed to receive did not always comply with her own.
CYRWAY: The wonders of fan fiction.
He was just fiction...
GECKO: "Because she dreams in digital...."
BROOKLYN: Will you quit it with the Orgy songs?
He was an invisible companion at her side.
CYRWAY: I had one of those when I was six.
Wherever she was, she could feel his tender touch.
GECKO: Ace, Brooklyn's mentally touching me in a no-no place.
BROOKLYN: Am not!
When she needed him, he was there for her: in times when she was about to give herself up, he gave her strength and taught her to fight.
CYRWAY: And fight dirty at that.
When he needed her, she was there for him: in times when the darkness was about to overwhelm him, she was his light and taught him how to love.
BROOKLYN: To light his darkest hour?
GECKO: Hey, Ace, isn't that how you describe Arty and Screamer's relationship?
CYRWAY: *sinks into her seat.* I'll deny that on the grounds that this hasn't turned violent yet.
But all this was only part of her imagination. In reality he did not exist.
CYRWAY: Just keep telling yourself that. I did, and look at me now!
He was just fiction...
GECKO: "But she dreams--" *gets pummeled by Brooklyn*
Just fiction..?
BROOKLYN: Yep. We're all fiction. Even Ace.
CYRWAY: But...if I'm fiction....who's MiSTing this fic?
GECKO: Whoa...that was deep....
1.
>GECKO: "Is the loneliest number...."
It was right in the middle of the night. Beams of moonlight fell through the terrace door, painting a strip of pale brightness across the loft chamber. To both sides of this corridor, the room remained in darkness. So did the bed that consisted - caused by its owner's mood - only of a mattress.
GECKO: She was changing the sheets. It was a good night to change the sheets.
It was placed directly against one of the walls that skipped into the roof's slope two feet above the floor. This meant you had to be especially careful not to hit your head in case of sitting up too fast after waking up.
CYRWAY: I used to live that way after college, in a bunk bed with a foot clearance of the ceiling.
BROOKLYN: Okay, who's story is this, Magic's or yours?
And that was exactly what Mag did this night - not to mention that she did it in an extremely abrupt way. However, she did not hurt her head, thanks to long years of experience.
GECKO: And tying a pillow to her head.
Just a moment ago, she had been sleeping peacefully,
GECKO: Dreaming in Digital...
BROOKLYN: *smacks him.*
GECKO: What? I didn't sing it this time!
snuggled in her warm covers. Now she sat bolt upright and stared through the window, eyes wide open.
CYRWAY: There's something out there...something bad.
She stared into the night without noticing it. Seconds passed by.
The alarm clock ticked in monotone rhythm: tic... tock... tic... tock...
THE THREE sway back and forth to the rhythm of the clock.
GECKO: Better run, Hook...here comes the crock...tick tock, tick tock.
CYRWAY: *under her breath* My lifestyle determines my deathstyle...
Mag was like stunned.
CYRWAY: Like, oh my god!
tic... tock... tic... tock...
GECKO: You are getting sleepy....
I'm alive..!
BROOKLYN: No, dear, you're fiction. *Clamps a hand over Gecko's mouth before he can start singing.*
There it was again!
CYRWAY: The pervert from next door!
All of a sudden, this thought had flashed through her mind, and she knew for sure that had not been her own. Slowly, her paralysis ceased. Her heart beat so hard that her entire body seemed to vibrate from it. Was it possible that..?
GECKO: She could be a made up character?
Still uncertain, Mag closed her eyes again. For a better concentration, she touched her temples with the fingertips.
BROOKLYN: Yep, brain still there.
What she now saw with her inner eyes seemed to be the scenery of a science fiction film.
GECKO: Or a Tool music video.
It had to be the interior of a giant spaceship.
GECKO: Or, like I said, a Tool music video.
The walls, doors, and ceilings were made out of a shimmering gold metal. Strange devices like alien instruments and computer screens of different sizes were seen everywhere.
BROOKLYN: Here is where the Alien pops out.
But the screens were dead. No data flickered over it.
BROOKLYN: Or Jason.
Neither a single display nor a diode signalled anywhere. No life in here...everything dead...wreckage and debris everywhere...the floor and the consoles were buried under a thick, gray layer of dust which was thousands of years old.
GECKO: Stupid Waspinator not doing his job...
Stalactites pierced the decayed ceiling. Like stone fingers, they pointed at metallic figures which were hardly visible beneath the dust. The starship: a wreck without life buried in Earth's womb eternities ago.
CYRWAY: Nice imagery! *claps*
Lost.
GECKO: In middle America. Just like the kids from Blair Witch Project.
Forgotten.
GECKO: Like Blair Witch Project 2.
A grave.
BROOKLYN: "Here lies Beast Machines..."
Whose grave..?
CYRWAY: The grave of the unknown soldiers, who fought bravely during the Beast Wars...
GECKO: Tigahawk, we hardly knew ye.
CYRWAY: *sobs* Oh, Depth Charge, why did you have to die?!
However - something barely illuminated the ghostly scenario.
For some reason, a weak emergency light still worked.
BROOKLYN: Of course.
Or maybe... it worked again? In the poor light, Mag could see a black-colored hand formed like a human's. But it was not of flesh and bones - it was of metal. The dark fingers moved... carefully... unbelievingly... in an asking way...
GECKO: *raspy voice* Why...me...?
From Mag's perspective, it looked like she would move them herself. Suddenly she realized that she saw through the eyes of the hand's owner.
CYRWAY: Creepy....
And there was this thought again:
I'm alive..!
GECKO: "Yes, I....I'm still alive!"
Mag took heart.
BROOKLYN: So is this a Transformers fanfiction or an Anita Blake story?
She concentrated more to form a message in her mind.
CYRWAY: Am I fiction? Is any of this real?
Mate...? My mate, do you understand me..?
GECKO: And then Arty winds up and smacks Starscream.
BROOKLYN: And there was much rejoicing.
First, there was only surprise, then a wave of emotions came from the other spirit breaking into hers: starting with relief, happiness and most of all... love.
CYRWAY: That's not love...that's narcissism!
Magic, my little Magic, is that really you..? I thought you've just been a wonderful dream...
GECKO: We were in a happy place...and you rode in on a white stallion...and we frolicked in the sweet spring grass...
These thoughts and feelings softly embraced Mag's soul. She could not prevent that tears appeared behind her closed eyelids.
CYRWAY: I can't wait until Anakin goes to the dark side... *Sinks into her seat.*
GECKO: The romance factor is already getting to me.
Oh, beloved, I am here! I am really here! I am with you!
BROOKLYN: *fake Germanic accent.* My name is Gunther, and this is my movie. Quake: A Love Story.
Her heart was full of joy.
GECKO: And her brain, full of mush.
I haven't dared to hope... my Magic...
You're alive... You are alive!
Yes, I'm alive and... I'll never be lonely anymore.
CYRWAY: I'm gonna need to write an Arty and Screamer scene after this...
BROOKLYN: Too sickenly sweet for you?
GECKO: WHERE'S THE FIGHTING?!
Strange...although they were in completely different places, they were so close to each other as if they were just one being. And in some way they were one...
ALL THREE: TILL ALL ARE ONE!!!
When he was standing up, Mag felt it as if she would do it herself. His movements whirled up the knee-high dust.
ALL THREE: *sneezes*
The grey cloud danced phantom-like in the twilight.
I'm alive. But the others...
He looked around... nothing. No movements. Only the dust's ghostly dance.
GECKO & CYRWAY: "Lucretia, my reflection, dance the ghost in me!"
Someone had left a wide trace in the grey mass which covered the floor. It started at an opening of the half-decayed wall and ended where he had laid a just few minutes ago. A small cylindrical droid was right there, motionless, frozen in its movements.
What's this?
BROOKLYN: A temporally displaced diagnostic drone.
A maintenance unit. It must have repaired my systems... But why doesn't it continue its work?
CYRWAY: It's on strike.
He kneed down beside the strange construction and opened the cover of its circuits. With the routine of the experienced, he ran a system check. Nothing out of the ordinary.
The unit is in working condition. The central computer must have a malfunction.
GECKO: No, it's terrified of the mighty Megatron.
Through his eyes, she looked at the small droid: a barrel-like, white structure with a half-spherical head. It obviously moved on wheels.
In a way, the thing reminds me of R2D2.
GECKO: *beeps randomly*
CYRWAY: Wait until he uses his rockets, which never appeared in episodes 4, 5, and 6. Hell, they never showed up in Episode 1, either.
She felt him smiling.
GECKO: "When I see you smile....I can face the world...."
BROOKLYN: What does that song and this fic have in common?
CYRWAY: *biffs him upside the head.*
Magic, you are right... It looks like R2D2.
BROOKLYN: How would he know?
GECKO: Proof that George Lucas is an alien.
Maybe the maintenance unit was really the model for R2. There should be some data about it in Teletran's memory banks.
CYRWAY: Meaning Star Wars wasn't an original idea? No!
He nodded slowly. She had reminded him of something.
GECKO: He had forgotten to tell Greedo not to shoot first.
Teletran 1... I have to check its functions.
He left the droid behind, heading toward the exit. At every step he made, the dust reacted with a thick, grey cloud. But that could not stop him continuing on his way.
I have to find the malfunction. If not, I'll never get out of this dirt!
BROOKLYN: It's beginning to look like your apartment, Ace.
Be glad you don't have my nature, my mate. The only things you'd do now are sneezing and coughing. Holy cannon barrel,
ALL THREE: Batman!
that is dust! Mag laughed.
My cleaning-mad grandma would have gone insane already.
CYRWAY: Already seen it happen. Not a pretty sight.
GECKO: "Must clean house...then kill Butters..."
The new room was much larger than the last. Once, it had been the ship's bridge. But now, in the emergency light's twilight, it looked more like a stalactite cavern than the bridge a of space cruiser. A group of eight stalagmites occupied its center - silent witnesses of the past, guardians of time.
BROOKLYN: Which ones go up, and which one's go down again?
CYRWAY: I think stalagmites go down.
GECKO: I think you're wrong...
CYRWAY: What do I look like, a friggin' geologist?
GECKO: You don't look like Beachcomber to me....Gears, yes, but not Beachcomber.
Somewhere, water dropped from the ceiling.
...drop... drop... drop... drop...
GECKO: It turned out that those were neither stalagmites or stalactites...rather, they were teeth of a really big monster...and that wasn't water...that was drool.
A drop every second. In Mag's mind, the noise mingled with the alarm clock's ticking.
...tic... drop... toc... drop... tic... drop...
BROOKLYN: I'm tripping....I'M TRIPPING!!! *Coughs, composes himself.* I'm all right.
Time, what is time..?
CYRWAY: Time is an illusion....
A tinny noise interrupted the monotonous rhythm. He hit something which was hidden under the dust. He bent down and superficially removed the gray layer. Lifeless, blue optics stared at him. The Transformer's body was badly corroded. The right arm and the right lower leg were gone. But he still had his colors, which meant he was deactivated but not dead.
CYRWAY: But...but Wheeljack had his colours, and he was dead!
GECKO: No he wasn't....he was sleeping!
Ironhide!
GECKO: But....he died in the movie! With Brawn!
BROOKLYN: But Brawn's not dead!
CYRWAY: Neither was Starscream.
GECKO: Dude, Starscream was incinerated.
For Mag, it was a strange feeling, for the first time, to really see a Transformer.
Yes... Ironhide...
GECKO: Of all the Transformers, why Ironhide? *Comic book guy* Worst toy ever!
CYRWAY: I thought that was Blast Punch Primal.
He left the Autobot where he found him to continue on his way. His steps echoed hollowly through the dusky hall.
There was something that showed that life was pulsing through the Ark's circuits again: the central computer's main screen was illuminated brightly. But the message, in white letters on blue background, was disillusioning:
BROOKLYN: "Good morning, Dave."
"REACTIVATION SEQUENCE INTERRUPTED! SYSTEM MALFUNCTION! ERROR IN 3-27, 5-19 AND 9-35..."
CYRWAY: Teletran, it seems, had attempted to open an email virus.
The droid control program and their memory access are jammed...
GECKO: Horror upon horrors, Starscream is trapped in Wheelie's body.
At the same time he formed the explanation in his mind, he ordered the computer to initiate a status report of the damaged areas. In reaction, a three-dimensional circuit diagram appeared on the screen. Three elements were blinking in red color - the parts that showed malfunctions.
"3-25: ELECTRIC RESISTANCE PRACTICALLY INFINITE!" appeared in the lower part of the image.
Blown out...
GECKO: Of all the diode blown dimwittery...
He also must have said it. She could hear his voice echo quietly from the walls.
BROOKLYN: "Quietly" isn't something I'd use to describe any Decepticon save Thundercracker and Ravage.
GECKO: Thundercracker?
"5 -19:.." While the computer was changing the image's perspective to show the next red blinking area, a new description of the malfunction followed.
CYRWAY: 5-19 was the HotBotz channel...it was still scrambled.
GECKO: Octane's fault.
It was a weird situation for Mag. She should not be able to know the meaning of what she saw on the computer screen. The described technique was not terrestrial. However, she saw everything with his eyes, was involved in his train of thought, and this way she understood. As if self-evidently she knew about the functions of the parts, and perceived every error with him. This was something far from normal, a completely new experience.
BROOKLYN: It's like an Oreo cookie...the light side holds the dark side together.
After the third defective system had been shown, the computer returned to standby condition.
CYRWAY: Disk defrag found three bad sectors.
He noticed that only incidentally; his attention was focused onto an certain spot that was right beside the main screen. His fingers felt along the edge of a wall panel. There was a silent "click" when they touched the lock's mechanism.
GECKO: No, you idiot! That was the self-destruct!
Now he could remove the metal panel from the wall, and the circuits behind became visible. Mag understood at once what she saw: it was the area the computer image had shown before.
He put the wall panel aside. Dust whirled up and splashed like a dry wave against the metal. He ignored it.
Versed as he was,
BROOKLYN: How shall I come thee to a summer's day--aw, hell, just blow it up.
he removed the defective elements, replacing them with spare parts he had found amongst the maintenance unit's equipment. The computer awaited new input. He gave it:
CYRWAY: Let's see how the Autobots like it when I infect them with the Michelangelo virus!
GECKO: Does that mean they'll be saying lots of "Cowabunga?"
"CONTINUE REACTIVATION SEQUENCE; CODE D-1 A-2."
"REACTIVATION SEQUENCE INTERRUPTED! SYSTEM MALFUNCTION!" appeared on the screen.
CYRWAY: Typical.
What..?!
Mag felt his anger rise. His temper made itself conspicuous.
You miserable piece of scrap iron, I..!
ALL THREE: BLOW IT UP! BLOW IT UP! BLOW IT UP!
Calm down!
It was her inner calmness that kept him from clawing his fingers into the console. He could feel her so close.
CYRWAY: Dammit. *pouts*
Let me guide your hand...
GECKO: *mock pleasure.* Oh, yeah, oh yeah, lower...
He noticed that he had clenched his fist. A short, well-aimed punch against the switchboard - not too soft, not too hard - and... "REACTIVATION SEQUENCE WILL BE CONTINUED; CODE D-1 A-2" appeared on the screen.
GECKO: Yes, hit it, make it better. The first rule of any computer field.
Somewhere something hummed: the maintenance units started to work.
BROOKLYN: Must have been a PC.
GECKO: A Mac would have gone "Oh please don't hit me again!"
Magic, what..?
He was completely confused. She laughed.
One of my computer's drivers doesn't work sometimes. Then I use exactly the same trick.
CYRWAY: Once again, human logic prevails.
The lighting switched on. The droids must have repaired it first.
ALL THREE: Roger-roger.
He looked around. The Ark's interior was brighter now. What meant only that dust and wreckage were easier to be seen.
Close by, a maintenance unit had freed a dark blue Transformer from the debris and was about to repair his inactive systems.
GECKO: Who is it? Thundercracker?
BROOKLYN: Mirage?
CYRWAY: Probably Soundwave.
He laid his back against the wall and watched the small droid working.
CYRWAY: Go to work, 1812!
It was busily doing its job, ignoring everything else that happened around. It was a machine without mind of its own.
GECKO and BROOKLYN: *as Waspinator and Silverbolt, respectfully* Drones?
The code I activated should allow me to get our men out of here before the Autobots reactivate.
CYRWAY: MAGIC YOU FOOL!
GECKO: Only humans can be fools for love.
CYRWAY: Gag. Where's the fighting?!
Our men..?
Our men!
GECKO: And Starscream, who's the troop's bitch.
Mag noticed that her concentration faded rapidly. The entire scenario seemed to be foggy, seemed to dissolve in front of her mental eyes.
ALL THREE: Normal view! Normal view! Normal view!
At last, sleep had caught up with her. She still could feel the nearness of his soul.
ALL THREE: Awwwww...
Sleep well, my little Magic. Soon, we're going to be together...
GECKO: *as Movie Galvatron* And then I shall rip open Ultra Magnus, and every other Autobot who stands in the way of our love!
The moon had continued its journey and left her room in complete darkness. Imperturbably,
BROOKLYN: Is that even a word?
CYRWAY: Well, my rudimentary spell checker passed it. Must be.
the alarm clock sounded in its monotonous rhythm:
... tic... tock... tic... tock...
Mag could not hear it anymore. Curled up like a cat, she laid on her mattress and slept.
ALL THREE: Exit light....enter night....take my hand....we're off to never-neverland!
<B>2.</B>
Again, something dragged Mag out of sleep. But this time the cause was external: merciless ringing hit her ears.
CYRWAY: The radio would have been a much more pleasant thing to wake up to, you know.
Sleepily she groped for her alarm clock. After a few effortless trials, she finally caught it and switched of the alarm button.
GECKO: Then, nine minutes later...
It was too soon to be happy: the heavy ringing still continued.
Obviously she had been wrong to cast suspicion on the alarm clock. After exact sighting of the evidence it proved to be completely innocent.
BROOKLYN: Hmmm...if not the alarm clock...then the phone!
She opened her eyes and... shut them again, blinded. It was bright daylight already!
CYRWAY: "I live among the creatures of the night!"
BROOKLYN and GECKO: Laura Branigan?!
"When it goes on like this, with your eyes being so sensitive to light, you should wear sunglasses in bed," she said to herself, while her eyes slowly adapted to the brightness.
GECKO: "I wear my sunglasses in bed, so that I don't face the day...."
BROOKLYN: Nasty filk, Gecks.
Someone rung the alarm.
CYRWAY: "Rung?"
BROOKLYN: I think she means "rang."
GECKO: Give the gal a break...this was originally in German.
Not only that: somewhere someone hit heavily against wood.
BROOKLYN: Ouch...ouch....ouch....
GECKO: Blunt weapons hurt more!
The front door!
GECKO: D'oh! I should have known!
Mag grabbed her bathrobe and ran - while putting it on - down the stairs.
GECKO: STREAKIN'!
Ringing and hammering continued.
"Yah, damned! I'm coming!" she shouted, annoyed.
BROOKLYN: Well, look on the bright side...I've seen movies with dialogue mangled worse than this.
GECKO: *as John Chriton* Oh, god, she's speaking Engrish.
Whoever was outside the door had to be deaf... and blind, too!
CYRWAY: Of course.
After she had opened the door, her visitor continued knocking, hitting only the air. He had not noticed that the door had been moved.
GECKO: Ha ha.
"Man, Alex, what does this noise mean?"
BROOKLYN: *as Cyrway visibly cringes* Ouch.
GECKO: It means he's trying to get your attention!
she asked upset. "Do you want to smash my house?"
GECKO: Hulk smash house! Hulk smash puny human!
The blond boy looked as exhausted as someone who had run over a long distance. Certainly the result of the fact that he had run over a long distance...
CYRWAY: I think that was made clear.
GECKO and BROOKLYN smack her.
He took off his glasses and wiped the sweat away from his eyes.
"Oooh... Gladly you are awake, Mag..."
"...Are awake..?!" She did not get it anymore. "Your noise was enough to wake up the dead! It's shortly before seven, pal... I'm on vacation!"
GECKO: And I was having a dream about a Walther P38 and a vat of whipped cream!
CYRWAY: Giving new definition to the term "pistol whipped."
He made a conciliatory gesture.
“Sure, I'm sorry. But I have to get to the Adventurewood, and my grandpa's jalopy gave up the ghost..."
BROOKLYN: Huh?
CYRWAY: Car broke down.
BROOKLYN: Ah....
"... and I should take you there," Mag finished. "Come in first."
Alex obeyed the demand without resistance.
GECKO: Yes, mistress.
As he passed, he kicked the door in an incidental way. It decided obediently to shut with a 'bang' right afterwards.
CYRWAY: What did that door ever do to you?!
Mag passed a hand through her un-brushed hair.
"Okay, Alex, I'm gonna get you there," she decided after shortly evaluating the facts. "Under the following condition..!"
GECKO: ...that you strip naked and do the boneless boy dance.
"Say what you have to," the boy encouraged her graciously.
CYRWAY: You're a geek. Oh, wait...
"I might put some real clothes on and do my hair in any way... Not everyone has to notice that I'm a monster..."
BROOKLYN: *screams* A human!!! Run!
Her visitor looked at her thoughtfully.
GECKO: Mentally undressing her, I see.
CYRWAY: Not good to do when her boyfriend can transform into a weapon of mass destruction.
GECKO: *as Negaduck.* He's my new best friend.
"Good idea," he answered not batting an eye. "You look awful."
CYRWAY: You idiot! Now taste her wrath!
"Thanks!" Mag grumbled. "Same goes for you..."
GECKO: Catchy comeback of the millennium right there...
She dragged herself upstairs.
"You know where to find the living room," she mentioned while climbing the stairs. "If you want you can eat some food in the kitchen..."
CYRWAY: Just like my apartment.
"Roger!" Alex nodded and disappeared in the kitchen...
BROOKLYN: Ah, so BB makes an appearance in this fic.
GECKO: *BW2 Starscream voice* Don't call me Roger!
Looking into the mirror, she mentioned: "Great Matrix, my hair is more disorderly than Colombo's in his best times..."
CYRWAY: Wasn't he bald?
BROOKLYN: That was Kojak, dear.
Her locks wanted to do everything else but what she wanted them to do.
"Well, who cares..."
GECKO: We do!
She could feel his nearness deep inside of her - the tender touch of his soul.
GECKO: Ace, Brooklyn's doing it again!
BROOKLYN: Am not!
CYRWAY: Brooklyn, keep your mind off of Gecko, please.
BROOKLYN: I'm not mentally touching him!
GECKO: He's still touching me!
You are beautiful, beloved, very beautiful.
BROOKLyN: And what's Nightbird thinking about this?
GECKO: Nightbird is a human-built ninja blow-up doll.
Old flatterer!
CYRWAY: *fake British accent* I'm 37!
However, she knew that he honestly meant what he said. The connection of souls knows no deception.
CYRWAY: *sniggers*
BROOKLYN: Hmmm...Decepticon...deception...coincidence?
She could also feel that he was worried about something...
GECKO: *G1 Megatron voice* I'm worried about what I'm becoming...this feeling within me...
You are worried about the boys...
CYRWAY: Thundercracker and Skywarp won't stop needling Starscream.
GECKO: And Reflector's being mean to Ravage.
BROOKLYN: At least Octane takes Trypticon out for regular walkies.
Yes, Magic... I don't know how long I can keep them calm...
CYRWAY: *Starscream voice* Calm? CALM?! I'm perfectly calm!
GECKO: Now would be the perfect time for Starscream to shoot Megs in the back.
As long as it is necessary, mate. You can do it... I love you.
BROOKLYN: This is gonna end up like "Little House on the Prairie," isn't it?
GECKO: "Good night, Rumble!" "Good night, Frenzy!" "Good night, Soundwave!" "Good night, Skywarp!"
CYRWAY: That's "The Waltons."
His thoughts were like a tender embrace. She just wanted to drift away on this feeling...
GECKO: I'm suddenly seeing Magic, Nightbird, and Star Ruby in a twisted version of Tenchi Muyo.
"Hey, Mag! What's taking you so long?" someone bellowed from the lower floor.
CYRWAY: She's talking dirty to her boyfriend via psychic uplink!
She sighed.
On some days, a sledgehammer brings you back to reality, and this sledgehammer had a name: Alex!
GECKO and CYRWAY: "She hit me like a...DUM DUM! Sledgehammer!"
She should loiter a bit more now, just to annoy the nerd slightly. However - she was too good-natured...
BROOKLYN: "Good-natured" doesn't exactly go well with Decepticons...
GECKO: Octane was good-natured!
CYRWAY: Octane was a little too friendly with Sandstorm, don't you think?
GECKO: Aren't you the one constantly looking for Octane/Sandstorm shonnen-ai?
With a few fast steps, she was down the stairs.
Alex was already bouncing from one foot to the other.
BROOKLYN: *falsetto* You drank the entire pot of coffee, didn't you?
"Mag, I have to get to the Adventurewood..." he nagged impatiently.
GECKO: That sounds like Ace! "Jenny, I have to get to Top Shelf Comics!"
"I'm here..." she said to calm the boy, while she was grabbing her leather jacket, the car key, and her sunglasses. "I'm starting to believe it is a matter of life and death."
CYRWAY: The new Transformers-Witchblade comic is coming out!
"Right into the bullseye..." Alex who was already half way out of sight of the house.
CYRWAY: No heckling grammar, boys.
GECKO: Now who's calling the kettle black, Ms. English Minor?
As Mag shut the door, it closed much softer than after the former kick.
Alex had already rushed to the garage and had opened the door. He looked thoughtfully at the night-blue metallic-colored Volkswagen convertible.
BROOKLYN: Cabrio?<br>
CYRWAY: Thing?<br>
GECKO: Corrado?<br>
CYRWAY: Corrados weren't convertibles.<br>
GECKO: Fox?<br>
CYRWAY: Nope.<br>
GECKO: Jetta?<br>
CYRWAY: Nuh-uh.<br>
GECKO: Golf?<br>
CYRWAY: That's a Cabrio.<br>
GECKO: Well, what ever convertibles did VW have?<br>
CYRWAY: Busses...I think the Karmen Ghia had a convertible option...hmmm...<br>
The hood showed a silver circle with an equally silver pentagram in it.
CYRWAY: At least she got the name of the symbol right.
"How did you get this genius idea to paint the thing that way?" he asked. "It's a protective spell, isn't it?"
CYRWAY: Naw, it's just a pretty decoration meant to scare the morally straight.
"Exactly," Mag nodded. "In which case the star's peak points upwards like here. Upside down it would be a spell of attack."
GECKO: Pagan lesson within a fic. How useful.
"Protection against evil spirits?" Alex wanted to know.
BROOKLYN: I have news for you...IT'S NOT WORKING!!!
Mag grinned.
"Nope, I have a good relationship with evil spirits, you know... It's against car thieves and fanatic neighbors who try to convert me to the <br> one and only true belief," she answered.
CYRWAY: Actually, I find that trying to convert them to paganism is a much more fun way of doing that.<br>
GECKO: But you're not--<br>
CYRWAY: Exactly.
"Stupidly, it has absolutely no effect on nerds like you. Get in!"
Skilfully Alex jumped over the closed door to sit in the right front seat.
"Okay, we can go now," he mentioned.
Drawing back the left corner of her mouth, Mag looked critically at her passenger.
BROOKLYN: Patience is not a virtue with nerds.
"Sometimes I wonder if this is simple boasting, youngblood, or if you just don't understand how the door lock works...."
GECKO: "The pointy end goes into the other person."<br>
CYRWAY: That's a sword, dear.
The boy stared at her, eyes opened wide, playing completely surprised.
"What's a door lock?" he asked. "Since when does your car have doors?"
ALL THREE: Thing.
"Well," she mentioned with an even-tempered expression on her face. "That answers my question... Buckle up!"
The last words were equal to an order, and Alex obeyed without complaint.
CYRWAY: Okay, and the metal tab goes into the plastic sleeve until it clicks...
"Oh, man... Couldn't you go a bit faster?" Alex nagged, bouncing nervously on his seat.
GECKO: Obviously not the GTI package.<br>
CYRWAY: Or chopshop Baja Buggy with a Porcshe 911 engine.
They had gone approximately half of the way now.
"We're already at top speed," Mag answered. "Besides - this is a car and not a jet fighter..."
BROOKLYN: Unless you're driving with Cyrway.
"Really not..?" her passenger asked hopefully.
GECKO: And you have the gall to call yourself a nerd!
"No!"
"Well, I thought an old Transformers fan like you'd have a car that can transform a bit..."
CYRWAY: I tried that. My dad wasn't happy.
"When they assigned brains, they accidentally gave you a dinosaur's," Mag grumbled.
ALL THREE: SNARL!!!
Alex ginned his widest grin.
"Nope, there was only one of a fly left," he announced ceremoniously.
GECKO: *Waspinator voice* Waspinator would like brain back, fleshiebot!
"If I didn't believe anything else from you... this I'd believe!"
The traffic light was red. Mag stepped on the brake.
BROOKLYN: Decepticons don't stop for red lights!<br>
GECKO: Neither does Ace.
"Wait, why do you drive heaven and hell mad to get to the Adventurewood, Alex?" she suddenly noticed - obviously she was still not really<br> awake. "The store doesn't open before ten. So... what has happened?"
Her passenger looked extremely embarrassed.
"Yesterday evening, we had a role-playing game session..." he started slowly.
CYRWAY: Oh no! Horror upon horrors!
The traffic light changed to green. Mag stepped on the gas.
"Who?" she asked.
"Pawn, Joker, Sybeck and me..." was the hesitant answer.
GECKO: A couple of Orcish Conscripts, maybe one or two Initiates of the Ebon Hand...
"A n d..?" It was a really stressed 'and'.
GECKO: Okay! I forgot the Sengirs!
"Pawn brought a few six-packs with him..."
Mag had a premonition of what happened.
BROOKLYN: That's not a premonition. That's common sense.
"Go on!"
She turned left.
"We were in real good mood - except for Joker, who doesn't drink alcohol - and made a little muddle of the store...
CYRWAY: Lightweights.
You know how touchy Flowers sometimes reacts..."
GECKO: With a name like Flowers, I would say he's probably some ex-prison guard.
BROOKLYN: Gord was not pleased.
Mag nodded.
"I suppose he is going to break your necks, rip off your heads, quarter you, fry you, and feed you to his dog afterwards," she stated, her <br> composed voice worthy of a Vulcan.
ALL THREE do the Live Long and Prosper salute.
They reached 13th street.
GECKO: "Eleventh and Bleeker?" *sniffs* Nope, this is only 9th Street!
Fortunately, there was a parking space directly in front of the Adventurewood - a rarity.
CYRWAY: I wonder if this is anything like my D&D group...?
GECKO: Your D&D group is run by a retired engineer, your semi-retired co-worker, and a perverted dude who claims he's half-dwarf/half-elf<br> and can actually prove it. I don't think so.
The Adventurewood was a small store that sold comics, video games and all the stuff that was needed for a role-playing game. Flowers, the<br> store's owner, managed the shop with an easy spirit. If you wanted you could take a game and play with your friends, read one of the<br> comics, or sit down in a corner to paint your tin figures. Therefore, you did not have to buy something. Role-playing groups that <br> needed a place to meet could use the shop after closing hours. There was only one condition: the store had to be cleaned up afterwards. If<br> not, you were prohibited to enter the shop in the future. And in this case, Flowers was merciless.
BROOKLYN: So was the Gord.
Pawn and the slightly overweight Sybeck already waited impatiently in front of the door when Mag and Alex arrived.
"Man, Alex, where've you been? We need the key!" Pawn hissed nervously.
GECKO: *Cary Elwes, Men in Tights.* Key? What key? The Keystone? The Florida Keys? The Key to Vector Sigma?
"My granddad's jalopy gave up the ghost," the blond boy excused, unlocking the shop's door.
CYRWAY: *redneck accent* Car gone broke.
"Mag gave me a lift."
"Hi, Mag, old animal, how are you?" Pawn greeted her. He looked like someone with a hangover.
CYRWAY: WHINER!
"Beside the fact that I urgently need a coffee, better than you, I think," she noticed with a grin.
"Am I right supposing we should talk very quietly to you?"
He nodded.
ALL THREE: TOO BAD! HAHA!!!
"At least 'til the aspirin has an effect on my headache..."
GECKO: Bumblebee. Little. Yellow. Different.
They entered the little shop together.
CYRWAY: One year later, their footage was found.
While she was going down the three steps at the front door, Mag looked over the entire mess.
"Alex, do you remember what I said Flowers is going to do to you when he sees this?" she asked casually.
"Yeh," the other answered. "You said he's going to break our necks, rip off our heads, quarter us, fry us, and feed us to his dog afterwards."
GECKO: *Jay voice* Then we'll make 'em--
BROOKLYN: Expletive deleted.
GECKO: --them out, then eat that--
BROOKLYN: Expletive deleted.
GECKO: --and then have them--
BROOKLYN: Expletive deleted.
GECKO: --out and then burn it under the blood moon.
"I forgot to mention that he's going to force you to run over burning coals first..."
The interior of the shop looked very much like a battlefield. After the battle... Popcorn and chips were widely scattered across the floor. If you dared to enter this 'minefield', it sounded like walking through a bowl of cereal that was not yet drowned in milk.
GECKO and BROOKLYN: Ace's apartment, in other words.
CYRWAY: *scowls*
Parts of the comic shelves lay on the floor. In the rest which still stood upright, the comic books hung crookedly, looking like they urgently needed vitamins.
GECKO: *Brody voice* It's a comic book! You hold it like a woman, you--
BROOKLYN: Expletive deleted.
GECKO: --retard! *Blinks, glaring at Brooklyn.* Stop censoring me, jerk!
Inside the shelves, tin figures were completely knocked over,
CYRWAY: A valiant battle of Warhammer had been fought and lost...
aside from a small group of brave adventurers that stood as firm as a rock, the latter simply caused by the fact that the paper planes - they had been the major part of Flowers' printer paper before - had not hit them. Not to mention that the rest of the paper had changed the counter into some kind of wintry landscape, on which a bagful of gummy bears enjoyed skiing.
GECKO: Okay, I'll admit, that is a fun mental image.
According to the chocolate-colored fingerprints on the glass, the large showcase had prevented a reeling person from falling.
CYRWAY: LIGHTWEIGHTS!!!
More or less crushed beer cans decorated the shelves as pieces of modern art.
GECKO: These nerds don't know how to drink!
BROOKLYN: Budweiser...yeach.
On the table, the chairs were arranged as a replica of the Pisa tower.
Under the table: broken glass and a large red spot - the mortal remains of a murdered jar which contained acrylics.
The entire chaotic scenario was rounded off by the TV-set. Its top was crowned by a double-cheese pizza...
GECKO: My god...it IS Cyrway's Apartment.
"Honestly, have you guys celebrated an ogre party or something like that?" Mag wanted to know.
GECKO: What? Orgy?
CYRWAY: Ogre. You know, Tamahome?
Pawn swallowed.
GECKO: Which means he loves you.
"Was that us...?" he asked meekly.
BROOKLYN: No, it was a bunch of orges throwing a party.
Sybeck nodded strongly.
"Yo... Ye've been in a really good mood," he mentioned. "Ye shouldn't drink beer if it doesn't agree with ye."
BROOKLYN: Where is this taking place again? Ireland?
GECKO: Probably London.
CYRWAY: I think it's supposed to be the States....
Alex looked around helplessly.
"Shit..." He sounded really depressed. "We'll never clean that mess up before ten... Flowers is going to kill me..!"
"Don't whine!" Sybeck groaned. "Why he'd kill just ye? We'd our share, too!"
GECKO: You idiot! Sacrifice Alex!
"Because I have the key! I'm responsible for the shop!"
Mag rubbed her chin, rose an eyebrow, and finally said:
CYRWAY screams.
GECKO: I knew she couldn't make it one fic without doing that.
"Don't panic, boys, we're gonna make it... Alex, you're gonna grab the vacuum cleaner and start an attack on the rug..! Sybeck.."
GECKO: *Zim voice* The rug is evil! GIR! Attack the rug!
The fat one saluted.
"Aye, Ma'am!"
"You're gonna gather the comics, put the chairs were they belong and that stuff..."
BROOKLYN: What stuff?
He saluted again.
"Right away, Ma'am!"
"Ooooh... Do you have to shout?" Pawn complained, making a painfully wry face. "My headache..."
CYRWAY: Whiner!
"Good that you remind me of yourself," Mag noticed with a pleasant smile. "You are going to grab a garbage bag and put all this useless<br> remains of your ogre party into it... Like this, for example..."
With two fingers,
GECKO: *starts cackling maniacally*
she carefully took the double-cheese pizza at its crust to lift it about a few inches. The thing - obviously about to become alive - showed<br> serious resistance to her actions. It used its long cheese tentacles to prevent itself from being removed.
BROOKLYN: Like Starscream merged with WarWorld...
CYRWAY: *sighs dreamily.*
Mag released the 'dough-monster with toppings' into its former position, used one of the paper planes to dust off her hands, and stated:<br> "Meanwhile, I'm gonna get a bucket full of water and wiping clothes, try to get rid of the acrylics in the rug..."
CYRWAY: You know, vomit remover works wonders on all stains, not just vomit.
Within a few minutes everyone was buried in his work until...
"Bullshit..!"
"Such a hard word for such a soft substance..."
BROOKLYN: Unless oven-baked for 15 minutes.
"Flowers is going to kill me! He's gonna kill me! Now it's official!" Alex was heavily despairing.
He held a map's broken frame in his hands. It was the map of a fantasy world which Flowers had designed by himself. At two spots, the<br> paper was ripped off, so that the ink was gone.
GECKO: You are so totally dead, dude.
"Easy, youngblood, easy," Mag said, while she took the map out of the disconcerted boy's hands and placed it carefully on the table. "Don't<br> get upset!"
GECKO: *gasps* My god! She's...the Dungeon Master!
She checked the damages.
"I can retouch the graphic, that not a problem..."
"Really...?" Alex looked more hopeful now.
"But we need a new frame..."
CYRWAY: *stands.* Ace Cyrway, master framer! *Does an Ace Rimmer sweep of the bangs out of her face.*
She took a ruler out of the counter's drawer and measured the picture. "How many bucks do you have with you, boys?"
CYRWAY: Better hope that's a common size, or you're looking upwards to about $100 for a custom frame, even if you use the Neilsen 11-01 molding and regular glass, and at least a week wait.
GECKO: *to Brooklyn.* We had to end up with the female version of Cliff, didn't we?
CYRWAY: It's a little known fact, Norm...
GECKO: *mallets her*
Within no time, there was a nice little heap of money on the table in front of them. None of the three wanted to risk some trouble with Flowers.
"Okay," Mag mentioned pleasantly. "In the 21st..."
BROOKLYN: Or you can take it to Deck the Walls in the mall and wait two hours.
CYRWAY: *impersonates Splatter Phoenix.* Inferiour college labourers could not even remotely comprehend the benefits of conservation<br> framing...
The little bells at the door rang. Two further regular Adventurewood customers rushed into the store, excited: Dungeon and Andy.
The first started to babble right away:
GECKO: Bosom boobie blossoms!
"We've seen Pentacle outside. Is Mag here? We've got news. The Woman is here... the woman is good!
BROOKLYN: The woman is Gord. Gord is good.
Mag, have you already heard that there was a big rumbling inside Mount St. Hillary last night...?"
CYRWAY: The plot thickens.
"What is so special about that?" Alex grumbled.
GECKO: It's the highly-anticipated plot device!
"The store's still closed!"
Dungeon generously ignored the hint.
BROOKLYN: When does that ever stop nerds?
"Mag, as a specialist in this topic, what do you think?" he asked, grinning, because three of the present persons understood absolutely<br> nothing. "Is it possible that a certain event might occur?"
CYRWAY: They're not real. Get over it.
GECKO: She's an expert of fictional volcanos erupting?
She shrugged.
"Who knows..?" Her poker-face was worthy of a Las Vegas gambler.
BROOKLYN: Eat your heart out, Smokescreen.
"What are you talking about?" Pawn asked, completely confused.
Andy, half Afro-American, lazily pulled his baseball cap off of his forehead, shouldered his skate-board, and said: "Insider information, you...<br> outsider!"
GECKO: Holy Zippy Comeback, Batman!
Slowly, gradually, the two new arrivals noticed the chaos inside the shop.
Dungeon looked around.
"Wooops...?" he exclaimed, being taken aback. "Have you already had your first Decepticon attack..?"
CYRWAY: No, it's the Autobots! We humans were idiots to believe them!
"Worse! Much worse than all Decepticons together could ever be..!" Mag gasped.
GECKO: The entire crew of the Great Big Seekers throwing a kegger in Cyrway's apartment!
BROOKLYN: *deadpan* The crowd gets bigger every year.
"Four completely crazy role players celebrated an ogre party!"
CYRWAY: These guys haven't seen my D&D group get into an argument.
She let herself plump onto a chair.
"Fortunately, the guys were completely drunk, otherwise they might have initiated the end of the world...!"
CYRWAY: Already done.
"What do you mean 'initiated'?" Alex asked, playing indignant. "Successfully accomplished!"
BROOKLYN: Project Meteor is underway.
CYRWAY: Project Volcano was much more successful.
GECKO: Ouch.
"Nope!" Mag strongly shook her head. "For that, the necessary quintessence lacked..."
GECKO: Quintessons?
"Quintessons?" Dungeon asked.
BROOKLYN: *groans*
"Quintessence, you goof!", Andy growled.
"What kinda quince.?" It came from Sybeck.
"... my little sister!" Mag finished.
CYRWAY: Not mine. She's in the Real World.
With the assistance of Dungeon and Andy - the latter using the speed advantages of his skateboard to purchase the new frame in time - <br> they managed to clean up the store perfectly.
Exactly half past nine,
GECKO: After a montage with generic 80's rock music....
every trace of battle was removed and Flowers' map hung restored at its regular spot. The retouched parts were really only visible under a <br> magnifying glass.
"Oooff... We made it...!" Pawn sighed and wiped the sweat out of his face.
ALL THREE: YAY!!!
Mag laid her back against a shelf which contained manuals of different role-playing strategies.
CYRWAY: No more THAC0?!
Her eyelids were heavy as lead - she urgently needed coffee! Not only - her stomach lamented more and more to be filled.
ALL THREE: *zombied* Caffeine....caffeine!!!
Accidentally she hit something wooden with her elbow - it was a chessboard that was somehow placed between the books.
There were only three pieces on the board: a dark king made from red-brown wood, a white king and a bishop that some kind of comedian<br> had painted over with black acrylics. The pieces were placed on a diagonal: white king F3, bishop D5, dark king B7.
CYRWAY: Foreshadowing, folks.
The way they had been set made Mag shiver for some reason. She got a feeling that in this game it was not the different kings that were <br> playing against each other - it was the bishop that endangered both kings.
CYRWAY: YAY!!! The bishop's Starscream!
"Don't you feel well, Mag?" someone asked suddenly.
It was Pawn who had noticed how she stared at the chess-board.
GECKO: *falsetto* Chess scares me.
"Nothing..." She refused to explain the feeling. "My blood's caffeine level is zero - I have to hunt down a coffee somewhere."
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