Coup d'Etat (2) by Jennise Hall and Karin Welss "Give me an e-mail flame war any day." Lisa thought as she stared out a the growing crowd of FKFIC-Lers. As nervous as she was, she didn't really think she was THAT nervous. Until a hand touched her shoulder. She screamed. When she landed she found herself facing Laurie Salopek. "Uh... Nevermind. I'll tell you later" "What? Tell me what?" Lisa said, trying desperately to bring her pulse back to normal. "Well," Laurie searched for just the right words. "The guy responsible for our having a third season is here." "Good. I was worried Mr. P. would be late." "Not THAT guy." Laurie said, looking nervously at the closed curtain, as though she could see the audience through the thick material. "What?" Lisa yanked open a hole in the curtain and searched the audience. She didn't seen anyone unusual. *Good heavens,* she thought. *It's not bad enough I've had to get in front of actual cameras and ACT this week. Then they force me to speak in front of the great Mr. P. But NOW...* The rest of her thought disappeared as she saw him. She squeezed the edges of the curtain together and looked back at Laurie. "You know, really should be making this speech, Laurie. Being the first assistant listowner and all." "No way. Look, you'll be fine. Really. Come on--read your speech to me again." Laurie dragged the ever-brave FKFIC-L Assistant Listowner of record into the depths of backstage. * * * "All I'm saying is we should have told him Mr. P. had changed the script." Karin said for the umpteenth time today as she followed Jennise though the crowd. Heading for D-Day. Judgment Day. The wrath of Pops. Jennise suddenly stopped, spun around and said in a harsh whisper. "You're right. Happy!? Or should I grab the microphone out of Lisa's hand and tell the whole crowd that you were right and Pops may just send us into the sun or worse yet FIRE ME as head writer before the season premiere is over!?" "Not necessary." Karin replied, grinning triumphantly. Jennise, you're hysterical. Take a few... What vampires do when they hyperventilate?" "They don't hyperventilate. Wait! That's it. We're vampires. I can get a job writing on ANY show. Just a little whammy and..." "Get into more trouble with Sir." Karin said. The pleasure of hearing her friend admit she was right was beginning to wear off. Sir might not be happy with the changes. In fact it was highly doubtful. Jennise was probably right. She hadn't allowed a single change that didn't improve upon their original script. But that original script had had LaCroix's approval. He highly disapproved of things he hadn't approved. "Do you think he'd notice if we waited a hundred years or so before saying hello?" "Not at all. You ignore him. Maybe while he's dealing with you I can tell him about the script and slip away before he registers what I said." LaCroix glared at several overly enthusiastic list members and they scuttled off. Both young vampires were immediately aware of his frustration as he turned to them. "You led me to believe this was to be a private screening," he remarked coldly, settling in his high-backed throne of a chair. "It is. P..." Jennise's words faded into a light coughing spell. If it had been anyone but LaCroix, Karin might not have had the self-control to hide her laughter. "Sir, this *is* a private screening. The producer thought the fans deserved a thank-you." "Then let's get this over with. We shall discuss notes later." LaCroix allowed himself a small smile at the quaint industry phrase. "Yes, sir." The two vampires said in unison. They turned and fled into the crowd. Jennise sought out Mr. P. and the special crew seating area. She nodded to him and he in turn nodded to someone behind the curtain. She could have sworn she heard a faint yelp. Jennise and Karin took their seats on each side of Mr. P. He turned to them. "You're sure there's no way he'll pull his money?" Jennise grinned confidently at him. The Creator really thought this was still his show. *I shouldn't have been so cooperative.* She thought. "No. He won't pull his money. But he might make some changes in the production staff." She swallowed hard. She and Karin were production staff, after all. * * * The curtain on the stage slid open stopping at the edges of a gargantuan tv screen. Lisa McDavid, Assistant Listowner, stepped gingerly toward center stage. The room fell quiet, mostly out of respect for her obvious nerves. On the stage Lisa scanned the gathered crowd. *My friends. My friends. They're nice people. I'll be o...* She suddenly stopped her anit-neves litany when she saw LaCroix at the back of the room smiling at her. *Why is he smiling?!* Her mind screamed. She turned to dash off the stage and saw Laurie there. She mouthed overexaggeratedly. "Go on." *There's nothing to do but to do it.* "Hi, everyone. Welcome. What a wonderful week it's been!" The crowd erupted into cheers. When she raised her hand to signal for quiet, Lisa was startled at the immediate compliance. Smiling, she began to relax. Just a little. "It's been a long fight for renewal, but we won. Tomorrow night the world will be greeted with the premiere of the third season of Forever Knight. Before we start your special preview I think we should say 'thank you' to the man responsible for our being here--Mr. P." Jennise and Karin both glanced back at LaCroix when Mr. P. stood and accepted his applause. Both wondered how Pops was going to handle the evening. *Unfortunately,* Jennise thought, *I can still see his face clearly once the lights go out. I should have listened to Karin. No way I'll ever tell her that, though.* "And everyone knows our illustrious writers," Lisa continued. She was really getting into the swing of this introduction thing. "THE Daughter, Jennise and Cousin Karin." Both vampires stood and took their bows. On stage Lisa looked to the back of the room. "And..." LaCroix's smile disappeared. Ever so slightly he shook his head "no." "And with that done. Let's get down to business." Even she was surprised at how steady her voice was. "Tonight, you the stars, get to see a sneak preview of the show you helped to make. The season premiere of Forever Knight, Season Three. Your contributions truly helped to make this episode the best so far. If anyone has to go to the bathroom please do so now because there will be no commercials, just little 10 second black spaces. You will see all show and nothing but show. Enjoy." With that the auditorium lights faded down and Lisa, her hand in a classic auto model movement, gestured to the huge screen as she backed off stage. Seconds later she and Laurie tiptoed down the side stairs and took their reserved seats on the front row just in time for the show to BEGIN. ************************************************************* Lurker (10) by Maddog Interview with the Vampire "Oi, Maddog, where'd you get all this stuff," Rastro gestured to the television cameras and audio equipment strewn around the Lurker's Fortress of Solitude. "Uh, I acquired it, don't ask, don't tell. Thought your idea of interviewing all the FK people was an idea whose time had come." "And come again," Rastro responded. "So we're going to pretend to be Entertainment4Night and interview everybody as they go in to the premiere?" "Ooow, we get to be obnoxious press people!" "Nobody will notice the difference in your case. Who are we going to do first?" "Uh, don't you think we should plan out what we're going to ask first?" "Nah, that's for poofs, let's go ask LaCroix some questions!" she shouted as she activated the Tesseract. They found themselves outside the Forever Knight season three premiere, various fans were strolling around before they went inside to watch themselves in the episode. Putting on their Entertainment4Night hats they lugged the camera over to LaCroix. After a quick coin toss, which Rastro lost, Maddog shoved the camera in his face. "Mr. LaCroix, I'm Rastro from Entertainment4Night, I'd like to ask you a few questions." LaCroix stared at the two annoying Lurkers. He considered refusing but the lure of television fame was too much even for him. He gave a short nod and prepared himself to answer stupid questions. "If you were trapped on a desert island with the three original Charlie's Angels, which one would you kill first?" "That's easy, the one with the hair, Chris." "If your sister was a kangaroo would you let Nick date her?" "No, because Nick would be a wombat" Rastro was impressed--this guy was quick. "Ginger or Mary Ann?" LaCroix thought about who he'd rather dine on, then raised an eyebrow and licked his lips. "Gilligan." "Mr. LaCroix, do you prefer boxers or briefs?" "Neither. I always wear leather. G-strings." "Blondes or brunettes?" "Right now I have one of each, but I'm looking for a redhead." He leered at Rastro who took a hasty step back and shoved the microphone at Maddog, who decided it was time to go and interview somebody else. ************************************************************* Code word - Goldfish by Maureen Wynn with a little help from Betsy Vera and Susan Garrett "Hey, Betsy! I see you found the place all right!" "Oh, be quiet! I don't *always* get lost! Besides, I've been on every street in this city *twice*--I now know it better than the natives." Betsy did a double-take. "But what are *you* doing here?! Didn't you know that *he* was going to be here?" "Yes, I knew. I don't have anything to worry about," she said, unconcerned. Betsy stared at Maureen, sure that she had finally lost it. Maureen turned around as she heard someone call her name, and waved and smiled at someone across the lobby, calling out "Hi, Nancy!" Betsy turned to also greet their neighbor, then cringed as she noticed LaCroix standing in the doorway to the theatre, glaring toward them. Betsy tugged on Maureen's sleeve, then tried to nod her head unobtrusively toward the vampire to point him out to Maureen. Maureen frowned at her, saying, "Are you developing a twitch, Betsy? I know the War was stressful, but it's over now." "He's *here*," Betsy hissed through her teeth, trying to point toward the vampire without being obvious about it. Maureen turned to look where Betsy had indicated, and exchanged glances with LaCroix, then smiled and nodded at him. Betsy's jaw dropped when he smiled back at Maureen, with no hint of rage in his face or eyes, then turned to enter the theatre. "Um, Maureen... I thought he threatened to, um, *kill* you? Didn't he?" Betsy said, starting to doubt her own sanity. "Oh, that was *ages* ago. We're over that now." Maureen smiled, remembering... *****Maureen's Flashback***** The angry vampire (surely that's redundant?) towered over the Mercenary, eyes glowing red. "You have angered me for the last time. We will end this *now*, and I will be bothered by you no more!" He bent over her neck, baring his fangs, and was about to bite when she said "Pocket." He stopped, startled. He looked at her face, and said, "*What* did you say?" "I said, 'pocket'. Look in my pocket." "Why would I want to do that?" he snarled, bending over her throat again, and opening his mouth to expose his fangs. When she didn't shrink back, he paused, then pulled back. He sighed/snarled, and said, "Which pocket?" (Narrative hooks get them every time!) "Inside coat pocket." He pulled open her coat roughly (no need to be *gentle* with the wench!), and pulled a set of folded papers out of the pocket. He kept one hand wrapped around her neck as he opened the papers and started to read. As he read, he frowned, and the hand around her neck loosened, then dropped away. She wanted to rub her neck, but she'd be damned if she'd give him the satisfaction. She stood calmly and watched him as he read through the papers. He sighed (without the snarl this time), and looked up from the pages. "How did you get this information?" "It's a cliche to say that I can't reveal my sources, so why don't I just say urkkgh!" He tightened the hand that was once again wrapped around her throat. "I asked you a simple question. A simple answer is all I require. Now, where did this information come from?" She tried to talk, but only a choke came out, and he loosened his grip slightly. This time when she tried to talk, actual words came out. "I have a friend who was there when it happened; she helped me find them all..." ****LaCroix's Flashback (from FK War 2)**** ...Robin pulled a cassette tape from her pocket. Betsy V. took the walkman from her belt, inserted the cassette, then walked toward LaCroix. When LaCroix glared down at Betsy, Natalie cautioned, "Believe me, you want to use the headphones." LaCroix reached out and took the walkman from Betsy with the hand that had been at Janette's neck. LaCroix's eyes widened as he turned on the cassette and listened to the first few moments. He glared down at Natalie. "One never knows about people and their pets," she said, seeing Janette smile at the echo of her words. "We've got a full twenty minutes of that." "Not any more." LaCroix tore the headset off and tossed it down to Betsy V. "This one's mine. Destroy the tape," he ordered. Betsy just grinned at him. "Sorry, I'm a double agent." ***Betsy's Flashback (from FK War 2)*** "...Can't you blackmail him with something? Something you could threaten to publicize?" "Like what? He's never left any witnesses; besides, I can't think of anything he'd be ashamed to have spread around." Betsy got this innocent look on her face. "How about, oh, I'm guessing here, something like, say, a recording of LaCroix talking baby-talk to his pet goldfish?" "A wha----!!" Natalie choked while an incredulous laugh and a piece of powdered-sugar doughnut tried to use her windpipe at the same time. After a few minutes, she had recovered enough to ask as she reached for some Kleenex to wipe her eyes, "Where are you going to find something like that, even if it exists?" "It's on Ivy's tapes. I was listening to them when she surprised me in LaCroix's apartment building." "Hold it. These tapes are *real*? You're not just making this up?" Betsy feigned indignation. "Do I look like the type of person who would invent something like that? The kind who could come up with dialogue like, `And `ow is daddy's favowite fishy today? Umm? Is `oo hungwy? Oo, yes, I can tell `oo is vewy hungwy. Look! Daddy bought Spiky's vewy favowite fishy food. Nothing but the best for Spiky-wiky, awen't you my Spiky- wiky?' By now, Natalie was laughing so hard she was in danger of falling off her chair. Finally, after a long while, she got herself almost under control. "Spiky-wiky?" "That's what he said." ***End Betsy's Flashback*** LaCroix stared at Nick, who shrugged, "I told you your place was bugged when I apologized." Nick took a step toward LaCroix, who raised a hand to Janette's throat again. "They've got copies of the tape," said Nick. "Dozens of copies. And there's a loud-speaker system right here. Maybe we should just hook it up--" "No!" said LaCroix quickly. "There's no need... No need to act hastily." He withdrew his hand from Janette's neck, then released her hands and smoothed down the sleeve of her dress. In response, she smacked him in the shoulder, then stalked her way past Nick, to join her Ravenettes. "I'm certain we can come to terms," finished LaCroix, holding out his palms. ****End LaCroix's Flashback**** He glared at the Mercenary he had in his grip. "I thought I *finally* had taken care of that particular problem, and now I find it returning to roost in my nest yet again." He shook himself slightly; thinking about pets had got him talking in animal metaphors. "It won't *be* a problem... If you let me go. All those people in there," indicating the pages that LaCroix still held, "no longer have a tape of you, um, *talking* to Spike. Each tape has been replace with a tape of Elton John singing "Don't Let The Sun Go Down On Me." The real tapes are ready to be sent to those radio stations listed there." LaCroix glanced again at the pages he held. "There are an awful lot of them, aren't there? The list of radio stations alone takes up two pages. Single spaced." The pages he held started to crumple in his hand, as it slowly closed into a fist. Maureen quickly added, "The tapes will only be sent to the radio stations if I don't check in at regular intervals. So long as I'm alive, your secret is safe." He suddenly tightened his grip, and Maureen tried to gasp as the flow of air was cut off. His eyes glowing again, he leaned down to the helpless mercenary. "I will *not* be blackmailed! You will tell me where to find the tapes..." he said, staring mesmerically into her eyes, which started to glaze over. "Tell me!" "I... Don't... Know..." she managed to gasp out. "What!?" She tried to speak again, but not enough air was getting through. When LaCroix realized what the problem was, he kindly loosened his grip again. "I gave the tapes to my lawyer to hide, and he passed them on to someone else." She panted for a moment, then added, "They could be in Tibet now, for all I know!" LaCroix flinched slightly, thinking of Tibet. He released her throat again (this was getting to be a habit!), and stepped back, thinking hard. Maureen watched him, waiting to see which way the cat would jump (so to speak). "Perhaps I should get the information from your *friend*..." LaCroix suggested slyly. "The one who helped you find the tapes?" Maureen laughed, albeit a little hoarsely. "She doesn't even know *who* my lawyer is! You're barking up the wrong tree, Lucien!" Maureen shook herself slightly. They stared at each other for a moment, then Maureen reached out her hand. LaCroix stared at it, astonished, then back up at the woman's face. "We seem to have an equal advantage... Or perhaps, disadvantage, here. Why don't we call a truce, or at least a cease-fire?" she suggested. "Can't we shake on it?" The vampire was taken aback. *No one* ever offered to shake hands with him! He chuckled, suddenly amused at the temerity of the mortal. He decided to take the little Mercenary up on her offer, and took her hand, but instead of shaking it, he bent down to kiss the back of it, in a gesture of courtliness that had been out of date since before this one's grandmother had been born. He felt her start of surprise, and smiled, pleased that he had regained the advantage in their battle of wills. "We are agreed, then..." *****End Maureen's Flashback***** The two women started to move toward the entrance of the theatre. Maureen, thinking of the vampire's hot glare, that Betsy didn't seem to realize yet had been directed at her, said, "You know, Betsy, you've been awfully nervous lately. Maybe you should consider a vacation. I can recommend a good travel agent. You like mountains, don't you...?" ************************************************************* Lurker (12) by Maddog (more interviews before the premiere) The Lurkers lugged the camera over to Nat, managing to smack it around quite a bit since neither of them had been eating their Wheaties. Maddog took the microphone and shoved it at the coroner who managed to look very calm about the intrusion. "Maddog here for Entertainment4Night. We're interviewing Dr. Natalie Lambert, coroner and designated intelligent presence. Dr. Lambert, mind if we ask you a few questions?" "Go ahead," Natalie smiled at the camera. "If you were going to be stranded on a desert island for a year would you take a man or a truck filled with chocolate?" "Godiva?" "Any kind you want." "The chocolate." "Dr. Lambert, Starsky or Hutch?" "Hutch, of course." "Did you ever want to kill Tweety bird, have him stuffed and set above your fire place?" asked Maddog, Rastro zooming in for a close up. "Doesn't everyone?" "And our last question, before we move on to another victim, Natalie, when you fart at night, do you lift the covers to let the smell out?" Dr. Lambert considered the question carefully then noticed that Detective Knight, possible future mate was staring at her. "I never fart under the covers. Nope, nope, not me." "Yeah, right," Maddog shook her head, "So much for truth in reporting. Detective Knight, do--" "Oi, I get to interview Nick!" Rastro objected, smacking her fellow Lurker in the head with the camera. ************************************************************* Lurker (11) by Maddog (more interviews outside the premiere) "Ooo viewers, look who we just spied..." Maddog's eyes lit up. "My turn!" Rastro grabbed the mike from the drooling Madpuppy. Who whined in typical form, "No fair! You got LaCroix!" "Oh alright," said the Australian, relinquishing the mike and taking the camera. She never could stand Maddog's whining. She zoomed in on their next victim. "Detective Knight, I'm Maddog from Entertainment4Night. Would you mind answering a few questions?" Nick looked askance at the rather odd-looking woman who'd just been speaking to Natalie and her equally strange sidekick who didn't seem to know how to work the camera. She was pointing it at his face. Maddog hit Rastro who hastily refocussed. Nick considered refusing but he'd seen the pair earlier interviewing LaCroix, and he wondered what the vampire had told them. "Uh, sure." "Mr. Knight, are you now or have you ever worn leiderhosen and if so, did you like it?" What LaCroix told them? "Um no, I can't say that I have. They're really not my style." He realized this sounded a bit condescending and hastily added, "Though I'm sure they'd be very comfortable and I definitely respect men who choose to wear them.." LaCroix in particular, who had a strange fondness for the odd garments. Nick started going red as he realized Natalie was staring at him. "If you were a tub of Ben and Jerry's, what flavor would you be?" "Chocolate chip cookie dough." Nat's favorite. "One final question, Detective Knight, if you were a woman would you wear a one piece or a two piece bathing suit?" Maddog leaned forward to hear the answer. It said so much about a man's character. "A two piece thong, black," Nick replied, smiling into the camera. He knew that was the safest answer to give. "Uh, interesting, let's move on Rastro," The two Lurkers moved into the crowd. "We need to go find some chocolate. I'm feeling..." "Unfulfilled?" "Yeah, that's it, unfulfilled." ************************************************************* Entering the Fray by Judith Freudenthal Judith Freudenthal slipped into her seat glad that she hadn't missed the beginning. She couldn't wait to see herself on the screen. She also couldn't wait to see the scene she'd written. Unfortunately she'd have to wait til later for that one. This would show all those who doubted her when she said she wanted to be a writer. From the back of the room she carefully looked around noting who was here and where they were. She almost hadn't made it due to several problems. First of all she had real trouble convincing her parents that the message/invitation was real. Then came the transportation and money problems. Once she had solved those the rest was easy. She chose to keep her affiliation to herself for the moment. It would become clear to all when the time had come. She looked forward to the adventure ahead of her. She hoped that she wouldn't return home with any new "allergies." Her diet was sometimes bad enough without having any new problems added. She was fairly confident that she would be protected by her friends. She eagerly watched the premiere. By coming here she had made a friend or two quite jealous. Some couldn't believe that she'd run off to do this. Others thought it was great and wanted to hear all about it upon her return. She was careful to stay out of sight of LaCroix. She did not want to have anything to do with him if she could avoid it. She was not a Cousin and frankly he gave her the creeps. He seemed to get too much delight out of torturing Nick and his friends. She was mad at him for what he had done to Nick and Nat. ************************************************************* Lurker 17 by Maddog "Good Evening, this is Rastro of Entertainment4Night. We're here at the Forever Knight premiere interviewing people. You can smell the excitement in the air!" "That's not excitement, you twit, that's cabbage farts!" Maddog informed her fellow Lurker. She shifted the camera on her shoulder. It was getting heavy. "Can I do the next interview?" "Oh, all right," Rastro traded her equipment for Maddog's. "Hey, there's a new victim!" Maddog exclaimed as she bounced over to the man walking into the theatre. "Detective Schanke, Detective Schanke, we'd like to interview you." "Of course," Don Schanke mugged for the camera, then his nose wrinkled, "Who's been eating cabbage?" "Rastro," Maddog informed him. "Hey, you had some too!" Rastro protested. "Never mind that. Detective Schanke, how many licks does it take to get to the Tootsie Roll center of a Tootsie Roll Pop?" "Three," Schanke remembered his commercials well. "How do you eat an Oreo cookie?" "I twist the two cookie parts in opposite directions leaving only one with the creme filling still on it. I then lick the creme filling off with my tongue until its totally gone. Then I put the two cookie parts back together and dip it in milk, then I eat them." "Hmmm," Maddog contemplated the answer for a moment. "What do you do if the creme filling doesn't stay just on one cookie?" "I put the whole thing back together and gulp it down in one bite. No use wasting milk on an oreo that's not aesthetically pleasing," Schanke explained. "Would you say that food is important to you?" Maddog asked as Rastro zoomed the camera in to Schanke's expanding gut. "Can you think of anything more important?" Schanke looked pointedly at the chocolate ice-cream stains on Maddog's shirt. "Uh, not really. King Dongs or Ho-Hos?" "Ho-Hos." "Have you ever clipped your toe nails with your teeth?" "Only when nobody's looking." "What's your favorite ABBA song?" "Mamma Mia." "One last question. If your partner, Detective Knight was a pie, what flavor would he be?" "Oh, he wouldn't be a dessert pie, he'd be a blood pie. You know, one of those black pudding things." He leaned closer to Maddog and whispered conspiratorially, "You know, he's really a He thinks I don't know. But why else would I eat all that garlic?" Maddog coughed and spluttered as the garlic breath washed over her. "I thought you just liked souvlaki." "I do. But now I have an excuse--Myra can't complain if I'm protecting myself from the Evil Undead." He winked at the Lurkers and headed for the hot dog stand, humming "Mamma Mia." Maddog turned to Rastro. "He's a lot smarter than Nick." Her fellow Lurker nodded and refocussed the camera. "Well, there you go folks," Maddog finished. "Those who serve and protect are looking out for you tonight." "Are we done now?" whined Rastro as she set the camera on the ground. "I'm hungry." "Nearly. There's someone important we haven't spoken to yet. And we can raid the fridge at the same time." Maddog said as she thumbed the tesseract. ************************************************************* Curtain Rises by Tara LJC O'Shea As the familiar strains of the Forever Knight theme began to fill the auditorium, and titles flashes on the screen, LaCroix approached Janette, his voice low. "Where are your ravens? I only count a few." "They are around and about," Janette shrugged. "Some of them declined your invitation." "It was not my invitation, but I am hurt nonetheless. What about..." he groped for a name, and not finding it, dismissed the need for it with a flick of his wrists, "the cocky one, with the trench coat who is always smoking those vile cigarettes." "Why, I have no idea who you are talking about, cher." Janette kept her eyes on the screen, ignoring LaCroix, who now had an idea in his teeth and would not let it go until he had devoured it. "I think you do, she was one of your first, surely you do keep track. She had black hair the first time, brown the second." "Not purple?" "No, her I remember." "Ah, you must mean Tara, then. She's not here, didn't you notice? Her name wasn't in the programme book. Frankly, I don't think she trusts you, and meant to put herself out of harm's way. Or perhaps she thinks to avoid the war this time, I don't know. She does what she does, and hardly consults me." "Where is she again?" "I have no idea why you care, but if you must know, she's in New Mexico." "Thank you my dear. As always, you are most helpful." Janette continued to ignore him, and he slipped away as act one started. ************************************************************* Lurker (13) by Maddog "We're here at the Forever Knight premiere. The excitement just crackles in the air. Ooops, sorry, that's just Rastro eating some Cheetos. Let's interview one of the attendees," Maddog shoves the microphone in a passing woman's face and Rastro points the camera at her. "Hi there, we're from Entertainment4Night, and we'd like to get the opinion of some of the attendees tonight. Mind answering a few questions?" "Only if you hand me some of those Cheetos," Maddog hands her the bag, "And what's your name?" "Dianne la Mercenaire, Instigator and War Recruiter Extraordinaire!" "An instigator, I see, well Ms. Mercenaire, if you could be the shape of any breakfast cereal, what would you be?" "A rice chex." "Red or green M&M's?" Oh green, _definitely_! You _know_ what they say about green M&Ms..." the woman responded with a knowing smirk. "Since you are an instigator would you instigate Bobby and Cindy Brady leaving the Bunch and forming their own grunge rock band in Seattle called Generation Brady?" "Only if it would kill the show for good... _And_ I didn't have to listen to them." "If you committed some horrendous crime and were on the lam and had to pick a new name to disguise your true identity, what would it be?" "Dianne la Mercenaire" Maddog gulped. "Paper or plastic?" Dianne smiled wickedly, "I'll never tell." "And finally, Ms. Mercenaire, if you could throw a pie in Mr. LaCroix's face, what flavor would it be?" "Uh, that's Ms. _la_ Mercenaire to you. And the answer is rhubarb. I just like saying "rhubarb." I try to do it as often as possible." "And there you have it folks, how the ordinary person on the street thinks." Maddog smiled and turned off the microphone. The woman she'd been interviewing waved and disappeared into the crowd. "Oi, she took my Cheetos!" Rastro yelled. ************************************************************* Lurker 15 by Maddog "Hey, Rastro, there she is, boy, does that woman know how to dress or what," Maddog stared at Janette as she stepped out of a black limo. Janette was in a very daring black lace dress. The Lurker envied her dress sense, she herself was lucky if her socks matched. "Yeah, and it's my turn to interview. You carry the camera," the woman dumped the camera on Maddog and strolled over to the vampire. "Excuse me, I'm Rastro for Entertainment4Knight, I'd like to ask you a few questions if you don't mind." Janette looked the two Lurkers up and down quickly. "Only if I can ask you one first?" "Sure." "Does your mother know you dress like that?" Janette wondered who in their right minds would walk around with baseball caps that had their bills flipped up. Rastro considered for the question for a moment, "No." "I thought not, you may ask your questions now." "Janette, Victoria's Secret or Fredricks of Hollywood?" "It doesn't matter as long as its silk." "Matching underwear and bra?" "Always." "Shaken or stirred?" "Shaken, of course. What a ridiculous question." "When you swab tonsils with Nick, can you tell that he drinks cow?" "No comment," Janette shook her head. "And finally, if you were jumping about on Nick's bed, throwing his underwear around, what would you sing?" Janette glared at the Lurkers through narrowed eyes. Throwing Nick's underwear about was secret fantasy of hers, but not one she would ever admit too unless very, very drunk. "My Favorite Things..." she enunciated slowly, "but I'd change the words." She swished off into the crowd, wondering who had blabbed. "Well there you have it, folks. What female vampires think. This is Rastro with Entertainment4Knight." ************************************************************* Curtain Rises (2) by Tara LJC O'Shea Janette slipped out of the auditorium during act one, and with a quick glance behind her to make sure her leave-taking hadn't been marked, she removed a cellphone from her little beaded handbag, and dialed quickly. * * * Alone in her apartment, LJC snatched the phone out of it's cradle on the first ring. "Hallo?" "C'est moi," Janette whispered, and Tara's eyes widened. She recovered herself quickly, however, and sipped from a glass of ice tea she had set on the counter, and forgotten. All the ice had melted, and so it was a bit watered down, but in truth, she didn't notice. "To what do I owe this rare pleasure?" "LaCroix was asking after you." "My, my. Isn't this a night for surprises? Imagine that. Well. I thought I might wait here and watch it on the telly like any normal person." "What a liar you are. You left your names, any of them, off the programme book, I noticed." "Oh, I was in it. I was there, and once it was in the can, I got as far away from Toronto as I could." "Whatever did you do?" Janette purred, curious. "Nothing out of the ordinary, for me anyway. I said my lines, I hit my marks, and I didn't bump into the furniture. But somehow, I don't think *oncle* will be pleased." "Knowing you, no, I do not think he will be. It's your neck." "How kind of you to remind me. Now then, you must be missing the show, do go back in, and please, don't tell me anything that might ruin it for me, I detest spoilers." Tara hung up the phone, chewing on a fingernail lost in thought. Definitely a night for surprises. ************************************************************* Lurker (16) by Maddog "This is Maddog and Rastro with Entertainment4night and we're here in the trash... Lovely apartment of LJC. She's not attending the Forever Knight premiere but since travel through the tesseract is free we decided to visit her. Good to see you, LJC." "And good to see you Lurkers, though its hard to when you keep standing in the shadows." Rastro panned the camera around the apartment wondering what tapes they should try and steal. "We'd just like to ask you a few questions." "Go ahead," LJC agreed, taking a long draw on her cigarette. "When you blow your nose in a Kleenex, do you look at it afterwards?" Maddog asked as Rastro did an extreme close up of LJC's nose hair. "Yes." "If you were a man would you wear boxers or briefs?" "Boxers, I like freedom of movement." "How much wood could a wood chuck chuck, if a wood chuck could chuck wood?" "I suppose that depends. Are we talking toothpicks here, or redwoods? Gourmet wood, or just anything that comes along?" "Uh, never mind," Maddog mumbled, "When you eat a chocolate bunny, which part do you bite off first?" "The ears, then the head, then maybe a foot. But the head is definitely the place to start," LJC informed the Lurkers. "If you had a chocolate LaCroix, which part would you bite off first?" "Oh dear... I'd be tempted to see if I could just swallow him whole I think, for fear that if I bit off his head three more would grow. Or is that seven?" "Can't say for sure, one last question. So, LJC, have you ever been in a men's bathroom and if so, why were you there?" "Well, Kelly left her camera with Kate and Morn, who had to drive Kip to the airport, and foolishly left the camera with me, Colleen, and some chick named Laurie... Actually, I never went in, I only held my hat over the sign on the door so no one would disturb Laurie while she photographed urinals." "I'm sure it was an educational experience," Maddog stated as she closed the interview. Rastro panned around the apartment one more time, gently nudging some tapes into the multidimensional bag she was carrying, then settled the camera on Maddog who concluded their interview. "And there you have it folks, the world according to LJC. This is Maddog and Rastro for Entertainment4night." ************************************************************* Going on Alert (2) by Dirk Giles Dirk thumbed the clear button and speed-dialed 4, a number he had programmed just for this eventuality. The phone was answered almost immediately. "42nd ECS Ravens, unsecure line, Captain Pearson speaking." Dirk smiled. "Hack" Pearson wasn't the one he needed to speak with, but he transfer him to the right party without asking questions. "Hey Hack, Socrates here. Is Buddha available?" "Well, party on dude! Yep, he's back in the vault. I'll transfer you." The connection started to buzz a little as the line ran through the EM scramblers. After a few clicks, the line cleared. "Captain McElroy here." "Buddha, this is Socrates." "Hey Socrates. What can I do for you?" "You guys are participating in Maple Flag, right?" "That's right. As a matter of fact, we'll be flying missions up there for the next month or so." *Perfect,* thought Dirk. "Hey Buddha, remember that scenario I sketched out for you a few weeks back? It's time to put it into action." "Sure thing," Buddha replied. "Just give me a zero hour and we'll do our thing. We're Ravens, after all, and have to stick together." "Just finalize the plan and wait for my go. It probably won't be too long now." Dirk stressed. "I'll get back to you soon. Oh, by the way, I'll contact you from Toronto." "Don't you think going there will be dangerous?" Buddha asked. "I hear these people can be pretty unpredictable." "We"ve seen the Intel reports on these *wars*, remember? I'll be ok. Catch you later," Dirk said and hung up. Buddha hung up his phone, and cleared the scrambler. After grabbing a new ECM mission planning template, he called over one of the 42nd Intel specialists. "Get me the positions and frequencies for all Canadian air traffic control radars in a 200 mile radius around Toronto. And check the status of the local power relay stations as well. Oh, this is classified Top Secret." ************************************************************* Planes in the Sky by Dirk Giles "One final call before heading out", Dirk said to himself after talking with Buddha at the squadron. He dialed the hangar at the local airport. "Yes", a voice answered. "10 minutes", Dirk said and hung up. "It's a good thing I'm so close to the field!" After donning his suit, he grabbed his bag and jumped in his car and drove quickly to the hangar. The sound of aircraft engines already filled the air in the vicinity of the hangar. Inside, ready for taxiing, was a SR-71, missing only a pilot to fly her. The crew chief handed him his helmet as he approached. "She's leaking, but full. We did a full inspection yesterday with no problems to report..." "Great," Dirk said, "disconnect the aux. power unit. I'm leaving immediately." He then climbed the ladder into the cockpit and strapped in. "Tower, Raven 1 ready for immediate taxi and take-off." "Roger Raven 1. You are cleared to taxi to runway 35. Your flight plan has been approved." Dirk taxied the old but sleek black jet to the runway. After receiving take-off clearance he lit the afterburners and took off, turning north on departure. He climbed to -------- and set speed at Mach ----- ------- (sorry, can't tell you, I'd have to kill you :) ). *At this speed I ought to make it there before the first half of the show is over*, Dirk thought, adjusting the controls. *First a radio call.* He set the frequency to the 42nd's. "Raven base, this is Raven 1. Execute phase 1." "Roger Raven 1. I'll notify the Maple Ravens now." a voice said. "Raven base out." *They should be in place by the time I arrive at the premiere*, Dirk thought. After crossing in Canadian airspace Dirk received clearance to land at Toronto. "I hope they fixed the brakes..." he said, touching down on the runway. Dirk taxied the Blackbird to the assigned parking spot and cut the engines. After securing the plane, he removed his pressure suit to reveal his tuxedo, in reasonable shape after being pressurized for the flight. Thankfully Janette had arranged to have a limo waiting to take him to the premiere. *One of the great things about working for Janette is that you always travel in style,* Dirk thought as the limo sped off. After a short drive they arrived at the auditorium. Flashing his gold card to the man, uh, to the *vampire* guarding the door, he went inside and found an empty seat inside the nearly full room. ************************************************************* An Evening Out by Abby and Perri We walked through the maple doors, as late as always. It was beautiful, I thought to myself. But then again, I had thought everything was beautiful that night. Perri had told me during the drive up that I was hopeless, but I didn't care. My shadow danced in front of me as we entered the building. The halogen street light didn't seem to want to let me go, but I insisted. For some reason when I saw my shadow grow I had the strangest feeling of vu ja de--I had never been here before, and I didn't know what I'll be doing. Perri was the only reason why I had driven all the way to the premiere. It was all so crazy--ditching school, and more importantly work--wasn't something I normally did... Well except for English lecture, but that didn't count. "Ok, now remember, be careful," Perri admonished me as we made our way to the screening room. "This place is probably crawling with Cousins." "I know... Mommy," I said with a sly grin. "Would you quit calling me that! I'm gonna have to go back in my files and kill whoever started calling me that." Perri stormed off ahead to open the door for me. "Thanks... M--" Flames from Perri's eyes stopped that wisecrack. "Uhh, thanks much.... Yeah, much, Perri." "That's better. Go on, the show's already started." I entered the darkened room. There was only enough light to let me find a space against the wall. Perri closed the door as quietly as possible. As it snapped shut she waved at me to tell me she was off to find a seat, and some of her friends. I nodded in recognition. ******************* Perri wandered through the crowd, spotting a familiar face here and there. She waved at Amy Toole, caught Susan Garett's eye and pointed at the cowboy boots she was wearing, mouthing, "No ice." Susan laughed. She looked for Dawn Steele and LJC, but couldn't find them. Instead, she pulled up a seat next to Jenny and Amy. "Hi Roomies." ******************* "Dang, why aren't these places more bloody accessible?!?" I mumbled to myself in the back of the room. The screen had brightened enough for me to see that the room was lowered everywhere but where I was sitting. If I had tried to sit with Perri I would have crashed into the floor--not a good first impression. I resigned myself to being the odd woman out and curled up to enjoy the show. At least I was above all the heads... It took me a few minutes to realize that someone was sitting next to me. I didn't want to look, but then I also didn't want to eat the nachos from Taco Bell. I knew I needed a little less curiosity, but that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. I looked over but all I could see in the darkness was short white-blonde hair. Hadn't his mother ever told him that wearing black at night was dangerous? I asked myself. Then recognition hit me like a ton of bricks. "All alone? What happened to your friend?" LaCroix asked, smirking. "Uh, yeah... Uh, nothing..." was all I could manage to get out. LaCroix seemed amused at my confusion. Breathing in deeply, I started again. "We had agreed ahead of time that she'd sit with some other friends." "Oh, of course," he smiled again. "But why are you with her? That... Knightie?" LaCroix shuddered when he said that one. I was gaining confidence. Not a good thing to do around LaCroix, I knew, but I couldn't help it. "Because, she's my friend... And because I'm a Knightie too." "That I knew. You're too innocently foolish to be anything but a Knightie. But, remember, people change." "I don't." "You will," he said as he walked away. "Never." ************************************************************* Big Brother is Watching YOU! By Ron the Enforcer LaCroix's eyes were beginning to glow red with his anger. How *dare* they do this! He fumed. He noticed his Cousins, most particularly Karin and Jennise, were backing away from him. He would deal with them *later*. He noticed Mr. P. was looking like he was enjoying the show. A light scan of the mortal's mind revealed that the producer was *not* surprised by anything he was seeing. However, his telepathy also revealed that Mr. P. had a lot of help in getting the show he wanted made. And all of his helpers were in the audience watching the show with him. The entire premier episode had been written and performed by the *fans*. All of those women (and a few men) had put aside their petty factional difference to foil him! He *felt* a familiar presence and glanced across the stage. In the flickering light created by the images on the large screen he saw a familiar figure clad in a black suit over which he had on a long black leather trench coat, a black Stetson, and mirrored aviator shades. The man's sharp chiseled features were unmistakable... Romulus. The Enforcer gave LaCroix a wry smile and Sent: Before LaCroix could respond, the Enforcer was gone. Only one pair of blue eyes caught his escape via the air vents that lay above them on the roof of the auditorium. Nick Knight smiled to himself. He knew The Enforcer was full of surprises but he didn't know the man had the ability to turn himself into mist... ************************************************************* Racing to the Premiere (or But for the Love of Cheesecake, There Go I) by Gaylin "Jasmine" Walli and Tami LaFrank "I can't believe I did this for a mocha chocolate cheesecake," muttered Tami as she gripped the dashboard of the truck tightly. A quick glance down confirmed the cheesecake in question was still lodged between her feet on the floor. "Are you sure you know where you're going?" she asked looking back up. She issued a quiet gasp as they narrowly missed the bumper of the taxi they had been passing. A low chuckle let Tami know the gasp hadn't gone unnoticed. "Relax. This is me, remember? The Ravenette with the infallible direction sense." To be honest, Jasmine's direction sense was uncanny. Drop her alone in the middle of the an unfamiliar city and she had no problem finding locations that would have stymied even local cab drivers. Toronto was no exception. Noticing Tami's white-knuckled grip, she asked politely, "Is my driving bothering you?" "Well, it *is* a little, uhm, fast." Tami almost retightened her grip as they careened around a curve. "Ah, but I'm in complete control," she said, one hand gesturing while the other remained firmly fixed on the wheel. "That's the key, you know. Did I tell you I learned from my mother?" Jasmine's last word was punctuated with a blast of the horn as the truck swerved around a delivery van unloading in the middle of the street." Tami nervously chuckled, "Oh really? What was she, a race car driver?" The sarcasm would have been more obvious if she hadn't squeaked as she caught a glimpse of the speedometer. "Actually, yes. She taught me everything she knew. There's a funny story my mom tells--" Leaning hard, the truck rounded another corner. Jasmine's right arm slammed Tami back into her seat as they made the turn. "Sorry. Reflex. I'm used to riding with dogs in the truck. Now what was I saying?" And she proceeded to tell the story of the time her mother was drag racing a '57 Chevy in front of church when her engine threw a rod and narrowly missed the minister who was, at the time, shaking hands with exiting parishioners. Tami barely heard her. She was paying more attention to the rapidly approaching octagonal red sign. Panicked, she fumbled a loud, "Mmmph rxyty." "What?" "STOP SIGN!" she yelled and then watched with horror as they approached and passed said stop sign. Her hands flew to her face as she braced for impact. The squeal of tires made her heart plummet and she was positive that the rapid deceleration of the truck would end with their death. It felt like they were spinning wildly out of control and so it came as a complete surprise when the truck stopped of it's own accord and not because they had been hit. "Tami?" Jasmine's hand rested gently on her shoulder. "Tami, we're there. I told you I knew where we were going. You just distracted me for a minute. You can look again." She risked a peek from between her fingers and discovered that the truck was now through the near-fatal intersection, facing the opposite direction, and parked conveniently in front of the building where the premiere was being held. Two rather shocked doormen were standing on the curb next to Tami's window, obviously debating what to do next. Tami threw open the door and, grabbing the rest of the cheesecake (it would help settle her stomach) kissed the ground after she exited the truck. "Come on," she said, regaining her composure, "let's go inside. At least we got here fast enough to get good seats. Your driving ability is quite impressive. Maybe I'll let *you* teach my daughter, Jessica, to drive in 10 years. It'll help keep the boys off- balance," Tami said, chuckling. Jasmine stuck out her tongue in mock annoyance and tossed the keys to the nearest doorman. "Take care of my baby." She smirked. "It's delicate." And with that, the two women went inside. ************************************************************* Commercials by Dirk Giles The screen faded to black, prompting many of the audience to start to grumble. "Hey, that can't be all!", yelled someone from the back. "I've haven't seen my part yet!", another shouted. A caption suddenly appeared on the screen: "A Representative Commercial" The scene opened up on a trio of scantily clad ladies lounging around a fireplace on thick bear-skin rugs. Next to each woman was a phone. "We're all alone, and need you bad!", said one, as she picked up the phone. "Call us; we're so lonely." A phone number started flashing at the bottom of the screen: 1-900-FOR-LOVE. JP stood up quickly. "What is this crap? I thought we were going to see a representation of the third season sponsors!" he shouted at one of his marketing assistants. "Uh, this is a good sample of the commercials that will be showing", the assistant replied, looking slightly embarrassed. "Besides, it's a well known fact that most FK viewers are used to seeing scantily clad women lounging around in lingerie..., um, we'll skip the other two." Signaling to the projectionist to skip the rest of the commercials, the assistant sat down, averting his eyes from JP's withering gaze. After a short delay, the episode started up again... ************************************************************* Song and Dance by Andria M. Marcoux Utter and complete silence fell over the theater. Andria smiled to herself in the darkness. It had been so easy, the filming was such chaos that no one had blinked twice at a musical number. And Diane was right, the lyrics were a perfect fit... But, she had to wonder: was the chorus line of uniforms too much? Nahh. She scrunched further down in her seat, wondering what other surprises had made the final cut... ************************************************************* Lurker (9) by Laurie Dudik Maddog opened the Twizzler package and started gnawing on one. "Munch, munch," they were slightly stale so perfect for chewing on for a long premiere. Rastro reached over and grabbed one and started munching. They munched for several minutes, their chewing getting ever louder for after all, Twizzlers is plastic. The viewer in front of them turned around and glared at them. It was LaCroix. The Lurkers hadn't paid any attention to who they were sitting behind, though they'd noticed people trying to slink away from whoever it was. "Cease that annoying noise," LaCroix whispered menacingly. Then he noticed who was sitting behind him. "Are you still following me, Lurkers?" Threat coated his voice like nonpareils on a hot stick. He still smelled slightly of Hai Karate. "Uh, no, I'm following her," Maddog pointed to Rastro. "And I'm following her," Rastro pointed to Maddog. "Therefore, neither of us are following you, we're just sort of existing around you. Wanna Twizzler?" "Be quiet and go back to lurking silently," LaCroix snatched the bag of Twizzlers before either of the Lurker's could even react. "Wanna JuJu Bee?" Maddog asked, offering some sickly sweet confection to Rastro. Who took the candy and started gnawing on it. "Munch, Munch." "Munch, sluch, crap," Rastro slurred. The black JuJu Bee had stuck to a molar. After trying to dislodge it with her tongue for a while she resorted to the old finger in the mouth method. A particularly hard dig loosened it from the tooth and sent it flying from her mouth into the hair of the person in front of her. Maddog who had saw the event in slow motion. The wet JuJu Bee taking flight from her fellow Lurker's mouth, a spit trail following it. Lit in the glow of the screening it made a perfect arc right into the back of LaCroix's head. She grabbed the Tesseract and was just about to get them out of there when she decided seeing the look on LaCroix's face might be worth dying for. LaCroix slowly, ever so slowly, turned around in his seat. Eyes glowing golden he glared at the two women who both managed a sickly sort of smile as they waved. "Sorry 'bout that," Rastro apologized. Deciding that killing them in the middle of a crowded auditorium was probably a bad idea, LaCroix came up with another one. "You Lurker's can follow anybody around, correct." "Yeah, sure, its in our by-laws." Leaning forward the vampire whispered, "If you want to continue your pathetic mortal existence, I want you to go find Nicholas and annoy him as much as you've been annoying me. Understood?" Nodding furiously, the two women thumbed the Tesseract and escaped with their lives. ************************************************************* Just Desserts by Perri Smith edited by Dawn Steele Perri was sitting back with her popcorn, enjoying the show. She'd already made her arrival from Houston and was happily critiquing her performance at karaoke when she realized what the next scene must be. She swallowed hard, and decided that cowardice would be the better part of valor. Without disturbing Jennie and Amy, she got up and eased her way across the room to where Nick sat next to Janette. Along the way, she tripped over a familiar pair of feet. "Dawn? When did you get here?" "A few minutes after it started. Pretty good so far isn't it? Reminds me of watching 'The Fix' with everyone at DOW, except quieter. Having LaCroix around sure shuts everyone up." Perri jumped at the mention of LaCroix. Dawn noticed, and saw the half-guilty, half-hysterical, half-terrified look on Perri's face. It looked very familiar. "Perri, what did you do? You look like I did after I dumped the grape juice on LaCroix." Perri looked guilty, then resigned, as she heard familiar music coming from the screen. "See for yourself." Dawn looked up... And almost fell over in delight. LaCroix was on screen at karaoke night--on stage and singing "Achy Breaky Heart" while a couple of Cousins line danced behind him. "Don't tell my heart, me achy-breaky heart, I just don't think it'll understand. And if you tell my heart, my achy-breaky heart, it might blow up and kill this man." "Not bad harmony," Perri critiqued. "I didn't think the Cousins had it in them." She caught Dawn's wide-eyed look, and realized what she'd said. "I didn't think it would make it this far--I know it's not gonna be in the final cut--but I couldn't resist." Dawn didn't even answer, just grabbed Perri's wrist and hauled her across the room to Nick, who was staring at the screen in absolute fascination. He recognized Dawn and flinched. "Got any knives?" "No, but you're going to wish I did." She pointed at the screen. "Perri did that." "I thought the handiwork looked familiar," Nick sighed. From the back of the room, an outraged howl went up as LaCroix recovered his voice. Perri hit the floor at Nick's feet, trying to hide. They could hear LaCroix throwing questions at Jennise and Karin, demanding answers. "Why?" Nick asked in a whisper, making sure the girls were out of sight. "It was my fault, the others weren't in on it until after it was too late. I was ticked off at him for trying to take over the show and for what he did to you and Natalie, and I figured this was a better alternative than staking him." She giggled suddenly. "Besides, Karin and Jennise are going to get it for the karaoke they tried to pull on me." Indeed, they were getting it. For several minutes, it looked as if the phrase chewing out was about to become literal, before assurances of quick editing calmed LaCroix down enough to watch the show. Still at Nick's feet, Dawn next to her, Perri laughed again, quietly. "I think it would have been worth dying to see that." Nick looked at her with what he hoped was a quelling glare; then he noticed Janette had given up the effort and was laughing into her gloved hand. For the sight of Janette laughing, Nick forgave Perri instantly. Dawn sprawled out in the aisle while Perri leaned her head against Nick's knee, quite content to stay on the floor, and they watched the story continue to unfold. ************************************************************* The Popcorn Controversy by Abby Albrecht "Did you have fun with that scene?" LaCroix whispered into Abby's ear. "Not as much fun as with the flashbacks," she whispered back. "We'll discuss that later... You are quite interesting, you know." "Oh, I know. Somehow, I've always known..." LaCroix's face looked confused. *I guess he's never seen "Return of the Jedi."* Abby knew she had to stop dropping vague movie quotes everywhere. People didn't just think she was weird anymore. They knew she was. "Everything will work out my way in the end, however." "So now you're Frank Sinatra?" "No, but I knew him." "I'm not even going to touch that one," Abby said as she turned back to the show. "Don't turn your back on me," LaCroix warned. "But I thought I was your sun, your moon..." Abby pouted. *Damn, this was getting fun!* "You're a diversion, nothing more." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ From the other side of the audience Dianne watched LaCroix and Abby's little talk. *She's going to get herself into trouble again.* Dianne looked around for Nick. She found him sitting with a bunch of Knighties at his feet. *No, scratch that... Two Knighties. And where _is_ Perri's head?!? Oh my!* (sorry Perri, you set yourself up for that one :) Dianne told Deborah she'd be back in a minute and made her way over to Nick. "Look behind you," she whispered casually. "But don't look like you're looking." Looking over his shoulder nonchalantly, Nick saw what Dianne was pointing out. "What do I care about a popcorn stand? You know I don't need food," Nick said. "Unless they have french fries?" "Popcorn? Where?" Perri's head popped off of Nick's knee. "Over there. Next to LaCroix and Abby," Dianne said impatiently. "I think I'll just stay here," Perri said peeking over the back of the chair, seeing the back of LaCroix's head shake at something Abby said. "I mean it's not like Abby's my friend or anything..." "Scared?" Dianne asked. "Me? Nah... I always like sitting under chairs. It's good for the back." Nick finally saw them. (It took him a while to comprehend all the types of fries offered at the stand.) Walking to the back of the room a number of audience members heard him mumble stuff about Knighties who like to play with fire. Tagging along behind, Dianne smiled at his emotional outburst. LaCroix looked up at the advancing party. "Trying to save your friend, Nicholas?" "As always." Dianne shook her head at Abby. "You're trying to get yourself into trouble, aren't you?" Abby just smiled in return. "I must be leaving this little party--" LaCroix began. "May I suggest taking a trip to the Bahamas? Lot's of sun..." Dianne replied. "No, you may not. And I'm not leaving the room, just you." LaCroix rose and said to Abby, "until next time... And trust me, there will be a next time." Nick watched LaCroix cross to the other side of the room. After he was sure LaCroix was gone he tried to give Abby an 'I'm disappointed in you' look, but it didn't work. "I have to go back to my seat. Will you please stay out of trouble until the end of the show?" Nick asked. "Ok, Nick. I'll be good." Dianne watched Nick leave. "Should I stay?" Dianne asked. "Nah. I'll be good..." She shrugged her shoulders and walked off to her seat. "...until the end of the show," Abby said smiling. ************************************************************* The Cutting-Room Floor by Sarah Welsh As the familiar music filled the air, the credits began to flash by much too quickly to be legible, and the various factions pooled in their various corners to sulk or exult as need be, Sarah sat back in her chair with a frown. They had never even brought her back from cyberspace, for goodness' sake. The last she had been seen in the episode, she had e- mailed herself (and Dawn's goldfish) home. What a way to end one's fifteen minutes (more or less) of fame. Well, she supposed it could have been worse. Look at the situations FK has left other characters in, she reasoned. She could have been Alyce or Daniel. Or Sidney for that matter who had apparently gone on a long trip during the whole of the second season. Continuity among FK episodes? Even LaCroix hadn't been able to bully Mr. P. into that. Still, she wished her last scenes had made it into the episode. It had been an inspired plot twist. Her typing in the wrong e-mail address when she attempted the return trip to Canada and ending up in LaCroix' living (ahem, dying, ahem, *existing*) room. The crossover appearance of both Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen along with Bob Saget. The revelation that LaCroix' sire was actually Steve Urkel from "Family Matters." Sarah's own near-demise at the hands (er, fangs) of all of the afore-mentioned guest stars. And finally her rescue by Dawn's goldfish who, it was revealed, was actually Alix Logan in disguise all along as she did research for her upcoming role in the FOX television drama "Fish Cop." Oh well. She had no one to blame but herself. But it wasn't really her fault. She just couldn't help cracking up whenever LaCroix turned and made vampire-faces into the camera. Yes, of course, very frightening with the scary music when you're seeing it on TV, but watching him standing in a room full of people, with his face in a camera lens, snarling to the cry of "Work it, baby! Give me more fang, more fang. Beautiful!" was an entirely different experience. Everytime she was supposed to be cringing in abject terror, Sarah had ended up rolling on the floor laughing. After the 62nd take, they had just given up and rewritten the end of the episode. It was a shame. Oh well. She gathered up her purse and what was left of her bag of Twizzlers and wandered off to find someone she could bug into giving her a ride to the airport. ************************************************************* The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men... by Deb Martin Based on ideas by Dawn Steele and Catherine Bond LaCroix's eyes burned redder than the coals of hell. He scowled as he looked around the auditorium. People were laughing and clapping as the credits rolled. "Hey LaCroix, where's the clam?" someone shouted. But he was too angry to hear the jibe. Furious didn't even *begin* to describe his mood. "Who is responsible for this... This... ATROCITY? Who?" he sputtered. Just then, the glass window to the projection booth swung open. "Monsieur LaCroix. Comment--allez vous ce soir?" LaCroix spun around to see who had said it. He looked up to the booth. There, leaning out of the window, were the Die-Hards. Each had in her hand a shiny, golden goblet. As an expression of shock came over his face, they raised their goblets. "A votre sante" Catherine declared. LaCroix literally flew up the stairs to the projection room. "You..." he almost managed to get out before stopping. "Wait a moment. I recognize you. You were the crew members on the episode" "At your service." Dawn bowed gallantly. "What can I do you for?" The other Die-Hards burst into giggles. Quiet, but audible nonetheless. "Ruined. Absolutely destroyed. How could you? I was the rightful producer. I put up the money. It was my right, especially after what Mr. P. did to them. It was up to me..." "To ruin the show," Vicki continued. "To twist it to your own purposes, despite what the fans who watch the show wanted? To undermine the artistic vision of the creators? I don't think so, LC. Mr. P. financed the new episode, the one that was done the way the show was intended to be. What he cut and burned was *your* version." "How dare you speak to me in that manner. You all could be taken care of right this instant." "I believe not," Deb replied as she pulled open her leather jacket to reveal a holster. "Hollow points, filled with garlic, holy water, *and* wolfsbane. No matter how old you are, this will hurt more than you want to find out." "I *insist* on having the film. I paid for it, it belongs to me." Nichole pointed to a pile of film cans on the table. "There they are. All the reels, all originals," she said. "Merci!" LaCroix spat. He was at the door when Dawn's words stopped him. "Of course, only the originals belong to you. *We* do have copies." The look on LaCroix's face did it. This time the Die-Hards burst into uncontrollable peals of giggles and laughter. "And of c-c-c-course," Heather barely got out, "You do realize what was shown was being broadcast live, all over the world." They barely got out of the way before the film cans came hurtling at them, and continued through the wall behind them. LaCroix was nowhere to be seen. The women slumped in relief. "Well, Dawn, want to make the announcement?" Deb inquired. "I'm just waiting for my legs to stop shaking." Dawn replied. A moment later, she walked over to the microphone. "Ladies and gentleman. As you know, many strange and interesting things happened during the filming of this episode. If you'd like a copy of the outtakes, which are eight hours long, contact..." ************************************************************* Only the Good DieHard by Catherine Bond Abruptly the scene went dark. Amid howls of protest the house light came up and a very angry looking LaCroix walked down the aisle toward his scriptwriters. Karin and Jennise made themselves as small as possible, but it didn't work. "Who is responsible for this?" he demanded, pointing at the blank scene. "THE EDITORS!" wailed the two vampires, pointing in the opposite direction. LaCroix and most of the audience turned and looked up to the projection booth. There were the DieHards, absent from the screening until now, leaning from the windows of the booth waving to the audience, taking bows, and blowing kisses. Nichole, Catherine, Deb, Heather, Vicki and even Dawn, who was holding a golden cup in her hand. She saluted LaCroix and shouted over the din her comrades were making. "So, what do you think?" "You're responsible for this *fiasco*? You dare defy my with this drek?" The Diehard fell silent and looked at one another. They all stood up straight and then Catherine spoke, with a calm the surprise everyone--especially herself. "You've never really understood what we're about, have you, LaCroix? Being a DieHard doesn't mean we're incapable of making a decision. Or even about deciding not to decide. We're DieHards because we love the show as a *whole.* And we'd do anything to preserve it. Even defy you. The show isn't called "Forever LaCroix" it's called "Forever Knight!" There were cheers from the audience--mostly from the Knighties and NatPackers. LaCroix silenced them with a look. "Never the less, you don't intend to send *that*," he pointed again to the scene, "out over the air!" The DieHards' smiles broadened. "Oh, of course not." said Dawn. "The *real* episode is being transmitted to the satellites even as we speak. When we snitched Mr. P. back from the Cousins he explained that this whole thing was set up as a distraction. The *real* episode was filmed on a completely different set. The actors were real troupers, working double shifts and everything. But, then again, they got paid double, so..." "I didn't authorize any double pay for those actors!" LaCroix glared at Karin and Jennise. "No, but I did." LaCroix turned and saw Nicholas standing behind him, smiling. "I think everyone will agree that the episode that will be aired tomorrow is *much* closer to the original vision. ************************************************************* CYA by Jennise Hall and Karin Welss The image of Lisa's anguished expression froze on screen, then the theme music started up, and the credits begin to roll. Karin and Jennise saw their names go by in "Screenplay By" credits, then stared with mute resentment at the long list of meddling amateurs given undue credit. The Nat- Packers, the Knighties, the Die-hards, Hyo Moon, and... Karin's eyebrows shot up incredulously as she saw another name roll by-- "Hey," she hissed at Jennise, who was seated on Mr. P.'s other side. "Who's this Vicki Merriman person?" "Don't know anything about her," Jennise replied. "And we have more important things to deal with right now. Right, Mr. P.? Like, the fact that our boss--your money guy--is not happy with what he's been watching." Karin nodded vigorously. "We get fired, but you have so much more to lose..." Mr. P. smiled cynically. "And I suppose you two ladies have a suggestion about how I can avoid losing my show?" "We could try talking to the Boss, but you'd owe us." Jennise's smile revealed a row of perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth. The credits finished rolling, and the theater lights came up. A few seconds later, one of LaCroix's minions tapped on Karin's shoulder. She reached into the pocket of her stylish linen blazer and pulled out a neatly typed list of names. "Round these-- up. Jennise and I want a private meeting with them. And add Vicki Merriman's name to this list." "But your boss hired Vicki," Mr. P. added. "WHAT!?" Jennise flung herself out of her seat, and went storming up the aisle, closely followed by Karin. "Jennise. Jennise! Jennise, he's angry enough!" She glanced toward the extraordinarily angry vampire staring at the screen in shocked disbelief. "Don't make it any worse!" Jennise, undaunted, stormed up to LaCroix. "I know exactly what you're thinking! How DARE you blame this fiasco on us! It's bad enough we had to deal with mortal amateurs rewriting and sneaking scenes in on us, but YOU HAD SOME NERVE HIRING THAT VICKI WOMAN!" "Only because you two had clearly lost control of this situation." He replied silkily. "Since when do the writer's tell the producer what to do. THAT was your job! Don't try to blame us." Karin was astonished at her outburst. LaCroix stared at the two golden eyed vampires. "You're not telling me everything. Are you?" "You're not even going to apologize?" "I haven't punished you for your insolence." LaCroix grinned like a shark. "Stop while we're ahead." Karin whispered into Jennise's ear. "Tell him." Jennise thought a moment. This was creative integrity they were talking about. Could she just drop it? Yeah, to keep Pops from ripping her into little teeny tiny shreds, what's a little creative integrity. "You're right. We have a surprise for you, Karin?" Karin reached into her bag an d produced a video tape. "When we heard Mr. P. had invited all these list members to be in the episode we just it would be a disaster." She allowed herself to smile triumphantly. "So, plan B." Jennise finished. "The real episode." They finished together. LaCroix smiled like a proud Papa. He'd trained these two well. He accepted the tape. "This is what is going out over the satellite feed in a few hours." Later, outside in the plum colored Saturn, Jennise and Karin finally allowed themselves to give vent to their triumph. "Yesssssssssssss." "And now we've got some business to take care of with those so called writers." Karin's stomach growled as the Plum Colored Saturn roared off into the warm LA night. The End of FKWar 4. "We ain't never doin' that again." "Now I know why no one's ever started more than one war." Stay Tuned. Sometime, in the near future. When we can breathe again and Karin returns from Europe we'll be posting a real 'alternate episode.' ************************************************************* Credits Roll by Perri Smith and Sharon Scott The lights came on as the final credits stopped rolling. The room was silent, then, from the back, someone yelled, "We're back!" On cue, the rest of the room dissolved into a chaotic mass of hugging, cheering, accusing, defending and otherwise loud Forkni-l members. Nick hugged both Perri and Dawn--Perri managed to hold her hug longer than Dawn did--then Dawn wandered off to join the Die-Hards. "I guess we did it, huh, Nick?" Perri asked, a grin the size of Dallas spread over her face. "Well, some of us certainly did," he answered with a matching smile. "All of you did well--but you and I are going to have a talk about that karaoke stunt and reckless endangerment of Knighties." She gulped, then looked past him. "Oh, hi Scottie," she said with relief. "Hi, Perri, Nick." To her surprise, Scottie also got a patented Nick hug, and also managed to hold onto hers for a while. "How about that manuscript burning scene?" "I liked it," Nick said, "but I'm going to have to speak to the writers. I would never suspect the two of you of blackmailing me. Abby, maybe, but not you two." Perri shrugged. "Well, we couldn't rewrite *everything.* And it was in character for when you're in one of your brick modes." "Thanks a lot." He managed to look offended. "Don't mention it." She broke down laughing at the look on his face. "Don't worry, Nick, we love you even when you're a brick." His face went serious. "You'd better. Here comes LaCroix." She literally squeaked. "Oh lord. You didn't see me, I wasn't here." She turned tail and ran, losing herself in the crowd. Scottie turned around, very nervously. "Where is he?" "Probably abusing, what are their names, Karin and Jennise." He looked faintly smug. LaCroix was nowhere to be seen. "Cute, Nick, very cute," Scottie said. "You scared Perri to death." "She can take it." He grinned at her, then looked down at the floor, lifting his feet to carefully inspect his ankles. "At least we got you detached from here." Scottie went bright red. "Hey, that was not my fault. I was tripped..." "Yeah, yeah, that's what they all say..." "But they don't all actually *do* it." Scottie hadn't ever actually heard a vampire cackle, but Nick was doing a good imitation. "But seriously, you know, Nick, I keep flashing back to something weird... I keep seeing a picture of Jennise in my mind... I'm not quite sure what happened, but I think she did something to me." "Other than the usual torture, you mean." "Oh, so you know about that, too. I don't know, maybe it was just a nightmare." "An overdose of chocolate might be the cause... " "You've got a point there. But something's just nagging at the back of my mind. I'll figure it out sooner or later." "Hey, what are you two looking so serious about?" Perri was back with about ten Knighties in tow, having apparently decided there was safety in numbers. "Haven't you heard? Mr. P.'s so happy with the way the premiere turned out that he's throwing us a party." "He liked it?" Scottie asked in amazement. "I heard him say something about the extra editing to get rid of certain, um, non-canon scenes, will be worth it." She looked very pleased with herself as she turned to Nick. "Nick, Natalie said she'd meet you at the party and that if we don't bring you, we're toast. So off we go..." She grabbed one hand and Scottie, who could take a cue with the best of them, grabbed the other. They pulled Nick into the crusade of Knighties and headed out, singing at the top of their lungs (what else?): "We're off to see the Nickie, the wonderful Nickie of Oz!" ************************************************************* Let the Good Times Roll by Sharon Scott The crowd ebbed and flowed like the tide. Scottie mentally abused herself. But it was true. Factions collected, broke apart, merged with friends and former enemies in the other factions. Drinks were flowing, food was being scarfed like there was no tomorrow. The buffet table was groaning, and the smell of freshly popped popcorn permeated the room. Free, all of it, and this crowd was taking advantage of it. Schanke was having a hard time deciding whether to hit the buffet table again or hit on some of the great-looking women; Nick was mingling, introducing Cohen to everyone; and LaCroix was skulking in corners. Scottie said to herself, although she *really* hated to admit he did anything well. And then Karin and Jennise walked in. The crowd sounds came to a sudden and total silence, as if the audio track had just died the true death. The vampiresses tried to look, like totally cool, but didn't quite pull it off. Jennise, the Reubenesque Goddess of Peripherals, tossed off a blase "What's their problem?" to Karin, who began to look a bit green around the gills. "I can't imagine--we gave them the opportunity to star in the premiere, after all." Margaret looked at Scottie, who had a faraway look in her eyes. "Oh no, not again! Perri, help, she's going into a flashback again!" Perri came running, and together they shook, slapped, and otherwise tried to awaken Scottie from her instant coma. Her eyes focused again, and she shook her head forcefully. To Margaret's horror, she started a determined beeline for Karin and Jennise, her arm up and her index finger pointing at them. "You! You did something to me!" she screamed. "Who, us? We didn't do anything." Karin and Jennise looked at one another uneasily. "Yes, you did. I remember it all now. You hoodooed me into helping LaCroix. I *hate* LaCroix! You told me that you'd cure me of my f.... F... F... Oh hell--*amphibian* phobia if I helped him. You, you..." "A word that rhymes with 'itches'?" Margaret supplied hopefully. Scottie lowered her arm, dug into her pocket, and pulled out her lighter. "Why, I oughta..." "Fire, Jennise. Fire is *not* a good thing." Scottie advanced on the vampiresses, but just as she reached them, a small yellowish-white missile hit Jennise. And then a couple more, and then more, and more, and... Before they stopped, the assembled faction members had covered the two women with popcorn. Up to their eyes. "This isn't going to be fun to clean up," Perri murmured, "but it was a *lot* of fun!" And the groups partied on as Karin and Jennise tried to extricate themselves from their entombment. ************************************************************* The Sum of Things by Dianne T. DeSha Dianne slipped silently out of the back of the screening room as the credits rolled, and hailed a cab. she noted, pretty sure that it was still outright illegal for a cab to pick up an unscheduled fare in L.A. Traces of gray in the black sky announced the coming dawn. she mused, wondering who would actually get final say. *************** She had cashed in her return airline ticket for a rail pass that would take her west across Canada and the northern U.S., then down the Pacific Coast to L.A. It would give her a chance to relax and enjoy a leisurely trip home. Not to mention the fact that the ticket had been part of a retainer for unspecified services that had never been collected. Dianne had made every effort to contact Michelle and the Cadre of Canadian Cousins during the course of the war to receive her instructions, but they had never come. "Oh well," Dianne said with a quiet smile, "No refunds!" Still, considering their affiliation, she had thought it wise--as well as scenic--to take an alternate route home. Settling into her roomy, first-class seat, Dianne pulled out her notes and began composing her report to the Guild. It wasn't precisely _required_ of her, but--considering how close she'd come to getting herself actually _disenfranchised_ over that little "misunderstanding" with Maureen the Mad--Dianne thought it wise to play up her successes. she thought smugly, [Oh, o.k... So "honor" might not be the most *accurate* word for use in this context... ;-] She'd certainly been busy--working on a sort of sliding scale for everything from twice her weight in gold and jewels and a three-bedroom pied de terre in Trump Tower to a half-bag of Cheetos, as circumstances had warranted. The Cousins, though, that's where the *real* profits had been. They threw LaCroix's money around like it was going out of style. Why, Cousin Candice had given her a pair of sapphire earrings [from Saks, no less!] for just a few snide comments about Nick's brickishness! And Cousin Deborah..., Dianne's smile widened appreciably... The goose that had just kept on and on laying golden eggs... After a mild bit of relatively-civilized "discussion" during the premiere she had convinced a reluctant Cousin Deborah that the matter really wasn't worth the risk of Guild retaliation. The contracts *were* legitimate and properly signed, after all--whether or not they'd been intended as episode props. Besides, LaCroix's coffers could certainly cover the unexpected outlay. Dianne winced slightly at the thought of Deborah having to present that bill to her dear "Uncle;" she'd grown rather fond of Deborah. she reminded herself sternly before that uncharacteristic bit of sentimentality got out of hand, Anyway, Cousin Deborah could suck up to an over-inflated ego with the best of them, Dianne reminded herself. She'd be just _fine_. Her role as Recruiter for the Guild had been something of a wash: one defection, one failed conversion, and one new recruit. Dianne frowned. she decided, Thinking about all her activities in the most recent "unpleasantness," Dianne's mind began to wander, flashing back to... ********* Lucius, in a decidedly skimpy toga, peeling grapes for his cherished Knightie, Abby, to the tune of lutes playing "Sugar Pie, Honey Bunch"... ********* Dianne shuddered involuntarily. she breathed in relief. But those flashbacks were one thing she'd regret not seeing in the final version. She thought, The fun of writing them--not to mention acting them--was enough. Maybe the framing of Nick hadn't held, and she hadn't been able to make Maureen sing "Purple People Eater," but it was all worth it just the same. Putting the final touches on the report, Dianne sighed. She really would miss all of this. Returning to a life of filing and phones and form letters just wouldn't be the same... she thought as she watched the countryside roll by. Smiling, she stopped to read once more the few verses of A.E. Houseman's "Epitaph on an Army of Mercenaries" that she was enclosing with the report: "I sought them far and found them, The sure, the straight, the brave, The hearts I lost my own to, The souls I could not save. "Their shoulders held the sky suspended; They stood, and earth's foundations stay; What God abandoned, these defended, And saved the sum of things for pay." ************************************************************* Home again by Judy Freudenthal Judy got off the plane and was glad to see her parents there waiting for her. For as much as she had enjoyed herself in Toronto she was glad to be home again. She was tired and wanted three things--her mom's great cooking, to sleep in her own bed after a shower in her own bathroom and chocolate. "Was it worth it?" Her father asked. He somewhat knew the answer by the smile on his daughters face. "Every penny. I even got to write couple of scenes as well as act in one. The Executive Producer held a premiere just for us. It was great. We all get our names listed in the credits. I have to tell everyone when to watch it." "I'm glad you had fun." Her mother said. "You hungry?" "Yes." "How about a steak and some garlic potatoes?" "Sounds good." Judy said. Only recently had she tried garlic and realized that she liked it. A small grin escaped. "What?" "Nothing. I just spent the last couple of weeks working on a show about a cop who happens to be a vampire. Garlic nauseates them." Judy said purposely leaving out a few facts about her trip (mostly about the vampires she met because it would only worry them). "I made many valuable contacts. I also learned quite a bit." "That's important." Judy's father said. "We can't wait to hear all your stories." Judy's mother said. Her father took her bag and they headed out to the car. She knew she'd be talking about this for weeks. And that she'd never forget it (assuming no one played mind games with her like they did with Nat). Her piece of immortality securely in place (unless it ended up on the cutting room floor). Though doing a Star Trek would be a more secure place in immortality since it was only two years older than she was. ************************************************************* And Now, For Something Completely Different... by Catherine Boone She was beautiful. Her eyes were wide, green and sorrowful, and she stared up at him in perfect adoration. They were seated in Nick's apartment, with the candlelight low and the tension high. Perfect. Now was the time to strike. Nick leaned towards her and whispered confidentially in her ear. "Gretchen, there's something I have to tell you." Her eyes widened in anticipation, but her voice remained mostly calm. "Yes? What is it?" I'm a vampire, he thought, but decided to take things one step at a time. "I haven't been entirely truthful to you about my name, or my past." He looked into her eyes, but she only stared back, her brow furrowed prettily in confusion, so he continued. "My name is not really Nick Knight." He stood, then grasped her hands, and pulled her to her feet as well. Straight and tall, he proclaimed, "My name is Nicola de Brabant, Knight Templar of the Fourth Crusade, and I am immortal." As her mouth dropped in shock, he reached for a small dagger (left nearby for this purpose) and plunged it straight through his heart. Gretchen screamed in shock and terror, petrified as she watched blood pour out of the wound. Nick fell to his knees. *Oww! God, I _hate_ that part. But, is it working?* He looked up at Gretchen with puppy dog eyes, and she immediately swooned toward him. *Yes!! Works every time.* But as he tried to raise himself from his knees to meet her lips, his eyes flew open in shock. For, as he only now began to notice, his wounds were not healing, and he was growing weaker by the moment. "What the..." he muttered, then stared down in horror at the knife deep in his chest. *Ah, of course, a wooden center...* his last thoughts echoed hollowly in his mind as he died. LaCroix woke with a start, and his gaze immediately fell on his videotape of _Highlander_, still in the VCR. His face broke out in a wide and delighted grin. And he laughed, and laughed, and laughed. ************************************************************* Lurker (19) by Maddog "I wanna be a Jeffy ranger, I wanna lead a life of danger," Rastro and Maddog chanted. They both dreamed of being one of Cmdr. Jeffrey Sinclair's rangers on Babylon 5. Where they got to wear cool costumes and listen to Jeffy yell. Sigh... "Rastro, are you sure this paint will come off?" Maddog asked, moving the spray gun erratically back and forth. She was still feeling the effects of the wine coolers and the alcoholic ice-cream floats. "Sure, they use it at Ford all the time for prototype cars," Rastro explained. "It's such a lovely shade of pink." "Putrid is the term I'd use. Though I must admit Nick's Caddy looks much better this way." The two Lurkers then launched into a drunken rendition of "Pink Cadillac, crushed velvet seats, nah nah nah nah." "Oops," Rastro yelped as pink paint splashed on one of the Caddy's windows. She was finding it hard to stay within the lines. Taking a pair of black men's underpants from her rear pocket she began to wipe it off. "Hey!" a loud male voice came out of the darkness towards them. "Uh-oh, chongo," The Lurkers gulped. Detective Nick Knight appeared nearly instantaneously in front of them. "What," he asked, voice menacing, "are you doing to my car?" "Mmmm, would you belive that we're giving it a make over?" Maddog attempted an excuse, which sounded lame even to her ears. She blinked fuzzily at him, wondering whose brilliant idea this latest escapade was. "I think not. Who are you?" Nick demanded, "Some crazed Cousins or Ravenettes out for a little fun at the "Brick's" expense? The war is over, or hadn't you heard?" "Uh, well," Rastro tried to think of an explanation through the alcoholic fog in her head. Fortunately they were saved by a low laugh. "I see that they finally got you, Nicholas," LaCroix said, stepping forward. "Are these two your responsibility, LaCroix?" "Mine? Oh, no, no, actually I came to... Talk to them about their behavior during this war. Certain of their actions distressed me." He involuntarily rubbed the area of his head where the hair had been cut to free it from a piece of JuJy Bee. The two Lurkers looked at each other wide eyed, the words "I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die, Momma make it go away," kept echoing in the vast hollow spaces of their brains. "So who do they work for?" Nick asked. "Nobody, they call themselves Lurkers, isn't that right?" LaCroix purred. "Uh, yeah, we're Lurkers, we lurk in corners, we do our little thing in the bathroom," Maddog blurted out. Rastro poked her in the ribs. "You silly git, that's background, we do our little thing in the background!" "Ooops," Maddog said, desperately trying to still her heart rate. Having Nick and LaCroix both glaring at her was doing bad things to her blood pressure, not to mention underwear. It was also sobering her up, which was very depressing. "Your car looks much better in this color," LaCroix purred. Nick's Cadillac was nearly entirely pink. He fixed the two Lurkers with his light eyes and considered them carefully. He had no idea of the extent of their powers. They appeared to be total idiots but they did have the ability to teleport. Perhaps he shouldn't destroy them until he knew more about them. Of course, they did like "The Sound of Music" so that was a point in their favor. Nodding his head slightly while he smiled at the two women, he pronounced his judgment. "I'll let you both live for now, so don't give me any reason to regret this decision." The tall vampire flew off into the night while Rastro and Maddog managed to steady their breathing. Their joy was short lived when they realized that Knight was still glaring at them. "Wot?" Rastro asked. "I do not like my car in pink," Nick allowed his eyes to start glowing. He'd decided to frighten them into leaving him alone. His voice roughened with power. "Oooooh," sighed Maddog. "Aaahhhh," sighed Rastro. "Blork," the two Lurkers said, belching in unison. Their levity only angered Nick more. "This behavior is unacceptable. The War is over! I want you to get that paint off my car, NOW!" Nick's stern voice was making Rastro sweat so she pulled the underwear out of her back pocket to wipe her brow. She noticed that Nick was staring at her, eyes glowing even brighter. They were fixed on the cloth she was using. She gently unfolded it and realized that it was the pair of boxer shorts she'd borrowed from his underwear drawer, the pair with the bananas all over them. She smiled at the vampire. "Those... Are... My... Underwear!" Nick yelled. "You, you are the maniacs that destroyed my bed and left my underwear scattered everywhere! I blamed that on the NatPackers!" "Uh, its not my fault," Maddog managed to blurt out. "Nice underwear though, present from Janette?" The truth about the origin of the underwear being spoken aloud displeased Nick even further. In an eyeblink he had both Lurkers by their collars and was glowering down upon them. Both Lurkers needed a change of underwear very badly. "Are you also the ones that gave Janette that Dremel tool that she keeps trying to build a squirrel guard with and made poor Sydney sick?" There was no response from the two women so he shook them slightly. If they had had any brains they would have been rattling. "Well?" "Uh, hello Dr. Lambert, fancy seeing you here," Rastro managed to squeak out. Nick turned to speak to Natalie but it was a trick. Dr. Lambert was not there but his concentration was broken long enough for the Lurkers to slip out of their big Red Dwarf t-shirts (they had turtlenecks on underneath for warmth). The Lurkers took off running down an alley while Rastro fumbled around for the tesseract. It transported them instantly to another alley. A loud clanging bounced off the brick walls. "What the hell " Maddog wheezed. A sword nearly took off her head. There were two large men, one very cute with a nice tight butt encased in jeans, fighting with swords. "Time to go," Rastro activated the tesseract again before Maddog could protest. This time the Lurkers found themselves in a darkened tunnel. "We've got you this time," a low, lisping voice hissed. The two were surrounded by people all glaring at them menacingly. One of them snatched the tesseract away from Rastro. "Who are you?" Maddog asked. "We're the Lurkers, the real Lurkers!" the man responded. "Wot?" Some of the real Lurkers pointed nasty looking weapons at the pair. "We're the Lurkers that hold the copyright for the name! This is the bowels of Babylon 5 and you've been found guilty of copyright infringement!" "Out of the frying pan, into the fire," Maddog sighed. They were in for it now. All their activities of the last few weeks had attracted attention. Attention was never a friend to the Lurker. The situation didn't look good. She stuck her hand in her pocket, careful not to make too much noise. She located the goods. "The penalty for copyright infringement is death!" "Death, death!" the crowd of true Lurkers chanted. Maddog handed the Taco Bell bean burrito to Rastro very slowly. The frenzied crowd didn't notice the Australian woman taking a bite. Then it happened, the ultimate weapon, Rastro farted. At the same time, the combined effects of alcohol, dairy products and too much excitement caught up with Maddog, and she let loose a massive blast. "Aghghghgh," the screams of the true Lurkers was horrible to hear. Maddog grabbed the tesseract and she and Rastro folded space to someplace else. They were in a large field. For a moment she believed them safe until she saw a large group of black garbed Ninjas charging at them. She thumbed the tesseract which made a loud burping sound and gurgled at them. "Oh, boy!" they stared at it in disbelief, oblivious to the large blue police box that had just materialized beside them. A hand reached out and grabbed the tesseract. "That's mine, I believe." "But it doesn't work anymore!" "You farted in it, didn't you?" The Lurkers nodded guiltily. "That fatigued the structure of the tesseract. I'm going to have to make a new one now. Damn!" The door of the box slammed shut and it wheezed out of existence. "So what are we going to do now?" Maddog whimpered as she stared at the encroaching horde. "Uh..." "Thumpa-thumpa," the air around the Lurkers started to vibrate and the pounding sound of an approaching helicopter caught their attention. "Ach, lassies," a Scottish voice called out to them. "Come on then!" "I don't believe it," Maddog said in awe. "It's Cowley come to rescue us, just like we were Bodie and Doyle!" Rastro responded in a hushed tone. "Why, its Cow Ex Machina!" The two Lurkers ran towards the helicopter and managed to grab onto the legs of it just before the black garbed ninjas caught up to them. The dangled in space, giggling and burping as the helicopter pulled them up and away... *************************************************************