Cuento de Mi Id

“Dialogue at a Ball”

Camilla: You, sir, should put on your mask.

Stranger: Indeed?

Cassilda: Indeed it's time. We all have put on masks but you.

Stranger: I have no mask.

Camilla: (Terrified, aside to Cassilda.) No mask? No mask!

Fanfic Friday

"Jim Morrison's It's a Wonderful Life"

The banker awoke at dawn.
He put his boots on.
And he walked on down the hall.

He stopped at the room where his brother Harry slept.
And then he...

Then he stopped at the room where his Uncle Billy slept.
And then he...

And then he walked on down the hall.

And he came to a door
and he looked inside.

"Mary?" "Yes, dear?" "I want to kiss you."

"Violet?" "Yes, George?" "I want to..." *Makes unintelligible noise*

Fanfic Friday

"Buffy and the Minstrel"

(A more upbeat chapter from an edited version of a story originally written for another site. The story, of course, is set in an alternative universe and any resemblance to pop culture characters in our own universe should be fairly obvious.)

As Buffy, Laurel and Sir Roderick entered the inn known as the Violet Moon, they were greeted by an one-eyed proprietor named Alexis Harris as well as by his lovely blonde wife Anastasia.

However, they were also enticed by the sound of a lute playing in a nearby room.

"Oh, cool," said Laurel. "They have a minstrel."

"Not just a minstrel," said Anastasia. "We have the great Australis, Aus for short. He plays here all the time -- except for nights of the full moon. For some reason, we can never get him to work on those nights."

Buffy could not help drifting in the direction of the music. She did not hear such music too often in her line of work and given all her current worries, she welcomed the chance to drown herself in the work of a master minstrel.

At least she did until she realized what she was listening to.

"Eighty men died and eighty men fried!" sang the minstrel. "Now their ashes are buried on the countryside. Ten, twenty, fifty or more. The bloody red dragon kept rolling up the score. Eighty men died trying to kill that freak. The bloody red dragon of Coven -- "

"You're playing that song?!" exclaimed Buffy.

"Hey!" said the redheaded minstrel who called himself Australis. "What's wrong with that song? I get more requests for that tune than for any other song that I play."

"'Rover vs. the Red Dragon' is not the type of song I want to listen to tonight," said Buffy.

"Why not?" asked Australis. "Don't you like songs about dragon slayers?"

"Hello," said Buffy. "I am a dragon slayer. But that song about some dog fighting a dragon -- "

"Hey!" exclaimed Australis. "For all you know, it might have actually happened that way."

"But it didn't," said Buffy.

"Well, at least folks around here find it entertaining," said Australis.

"Folks around here aren't going to be fighting a dragon tomorrow," said Buffy. "Don't you have any tunes that aren't dragon-related?"

"I'm guessing 'Sympathy for the Dragon' and 'Pfft the Magic Dragon' are out of the question," said Australis.

"Yes, they are," said Buffy.

"In that case, let's see... 'Play with Fire', 'Light My Fire', 'Ring of Fire', 'I'm on Fire', 'We Didn't Start the Fir --'"

"Don't you have any songs that aren't fire-related?" asked Buffy.

"Sure," said Australis. "'Momma I Just Killed a Man'."

"No," said Buffy. "I mean something's that more upbeat."

"Well, there's always the classic tune 'Here We Are Now, Entertain Us'," said Australis.

"That sounds cheerful," said Buffy. "Play that one."

Fanfic Friday

"It's a Wonderful Life: An Alternative Ending"

That night, after a long day of breaking rocks and cursing Uncle Billy, George Bailey lay on his prison bunk and dreamt of libraries.

And librarians.

And hydrangea bushes.

But mostly of libraries, thanks to that damned Hays code.

Fanfic Friday

"It's a Good Strife"

"But if you do that, Mr. President, all the crops will die!"

"You gentlemen want to go into the cornfield?"

"On second thought, that was a good thing you did, Mr. President. That was a very good thing."

Fanfic Friday

"King Kong: An Alternative Ending"

"It wasn't the airplanes that killed him. It was the corrupt workings of our profit-driven economic system."

"You mean--"

"That's right. It was booty that killed the beast."