I LOVE Rincewind!

[brb_evil]

Why is it that I so often fall in love with losers? Must be something to do with my brain. Dropped too much as a child?

Or maybe Freud's theory that girls like guys who are like their dads... *evil grin* No, dad, you're still cool. In the loosest sense.

Anyhow, I read The Last Hero by Terry Pratchett in the library yesterday, and it was BRILLIANT! I laughed so much during the whole thing. And almost cried at the end. And said 'awww' a lot. In all, the markings of a good book.

Plus, Paul Kidby did drawings, and my gosh, the man is amazing! How does he... He read my mind! The pictures are exactly how I imagine the characters!

Anyhow, I promised Penny that I'd post the fanfic I did for Dreams and Visions(class), so here it is. It's basically a fanfic that I wrote and shoved all of my recent dreams together in it. Maybe I'll post the dreams another time.

Malea and Co. Get Pulled Into a Strange Dream World

Using my three characters, and the cast of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
And a bunch of other cameos

“Oh no!” said Malea, a redhead, “Where are we? How did we get here? Quick, someone, do some plot exposition!”
“I KNEW we shouldn’t have gone through that random portal,” said Ford Prefect, a Betelguesian of little repute and ginger hair.
“Thanks,” said Malea.
“Welcome.”
“Where is this place?” asked Arthur Dent, a worried Britishman, wildly, “Why are we on a hill? Who is that man in black? He looks menacing.”
“I…” said Angel.
“Hello,” said Some-Girl. Clap, the blond violent one, looked at her, and shot her.
“What!’ said Angel, “I…I was in love with her!”
“She was no good for you,” said Clap, “Believe me. And this’ll be funny.” She shot him in the leg.
“Agh!” said Angel. He faded, as did the hill.
“Oh, damn,” said Clap.
“What did you do that for?” said Andema, the SW brunette “I liked him. He looked strangely familiar.”
“He was OBVIOUSLY a vampire,” said Clap, “That’s why I shot him. So I could watch.”
“But it was the day,” said Andema.
“So what?” said Clap. Andema proceeded to bore Clap with a very long description of vampires including the fact that they couldn’t tolerate sunlight.
“So?” said Clap.
“Fine, be that way,” said Andema, and went off to quote some show at Ford. He soon informed her that the name of the show was Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and Andema quoted double strength at having found a fellow fan.
“Um, guys, where are we?” said Malea.
“Ooohwakadorie,” said some guy wearing a Squirtle shirt and robes.
“That was disturbing,” said Arthur.
“Hey, look, we got to exclude Zaphod and Trillian!” said Malea, “Score!” A plane landed in the large field they were standing in. The pilot poked his head out the door.
“Are you boarding now?”
“Well, I guess,” said Malea, climbing aboard.
“Er, ma’am,” said the pilot, “You can’t bring weapons on board.”
“How about I’ll shoot you if you don’t let me?” said Clap.
“Well, when you put it that way,” said the pilot. He stood aside nervously. The group trooped towards the back of the plane and strapped themselves into big comfy chairs.
“Ooh, buttons,” said Malea, looking up.
“Paul McCartney?” said Arthur, “What does that one do?”
“I bet it summons Paul McCartney,” said Malea.
“What, really?” said Arthur, sounding excited. He pressed the button.
“No,” he said, after a while, “It just beams an advertisement for Paul McCartney cereal into your head.” He looked really disappointed. The plane flew. Arthur tried desperately to prevent Clap from throwing daggers into the walls. Ford tried to make Andema kiss him and was very annoyed when he realized she was asleep. Malea read the plane manual sixteen times, then looked out the window. It was very boring. Everyone else seemed to be preoccupied, so Malea stood up and began to explore the plane. She walked to the middle. No one else was on the plane. Except for a scraggly-looking man, who was sleeping, his mouth open and his head against the window.
“Excuse me,” said Malea. The man woke up with a start.
“Sorry,” said Malea, feeling slightly guilty, “But I need to know. Are you a generation?”
“A what?” said the man politely.
“A… Never mind. I’m Malea Botor, nice to meet you.” Malea held out her hand to shake. The man shook it.
“Hello. I’m Remus Lupin.”
“Hi…” said Malea, feeling like the name was strangely familiar, “Do you wiz?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you’re holding a wand…”
“Oh.” Remus looked rather sheepish, “I suppose I forgot to put that away.” He blinked, and looked out the window. The night had almost fallen entirely, and the full moon was rising.
“Oh no! Excuse me, please!” He got up, hurriedly, and ran to the bathroom. The lock slid across. There was the sound of a scream, and then howling.
“Whoa,” said Malea, “He must have needed to go to the bathroom really bad.” She walked back to her seat, and buckled in.
“This is your pilot speaking,” came the voice over the intercom, “We will soon be landing at the secret hideout of The Beatles. Also, one of the air stewards has been very badly mauled, and eaten by a werewolf, but I don’t suppose any of you care. And seriously, if you lot don’t get off, I’m going to explode the plane.”
“Curses,” said Clap, “That was MY idea.”
“So, goodbye,” said the pilot, as the plane landed.
“NOW,” he said, meaningfully. Everyone got off the plane really fast. It took off, and flew away.
“So,” said Arthur eagerly, “Are we really at The Beatles secret hideout?”
“I don’t know!” said Malea, just as excitedly. She walked up to the mansion in front of her, and knocked on the door. Nothing happened. Arthur was practically bouncing with anticipation.
“You get it,” said someone from inside.
“No.”
“Why not? You’re right next to the door.”
“I don’t feel like it.”
“You’re a lazy…”
“I’ll do it, right?”
“Yeah, George. You do it.” The door opened. George Harrison stood in the doorframe. For reasons unknown to everyone, especially himself, he was his young self, only about 20. So were all the others. But he still knew about everything, even dying. He tried not to think about it.
Arthur was in Beatles’ Fan Heaven.
“Hey, do you all want to come in?” said George, “We’re playing shinny hockey, and we need some more players.” Arthur’s gaze traveled down and he noticed that George was wearing rollerblades.
“Let them in and close the door,” came the voice of Paul, “You’re letting the cold air in.”
“It’s 30 degrees out,” said George.
“What Paul probably means is that it’s cold for him, as he is secretly from Cuba and is not telling us,” said John, skating up to the door.
“I’m coming in NOW,” said Clap, coming in.
“Sensible,” said Paul.
“Now, if I were a penguin,” said John, “I wouldn’t like this weather at all.”
“But you aren’t,” said Ringo.
“Ah, but how do you know?” said John.
“I was a penguin once,” said Ford. George closed the door.
“Can… can I have all of your autographs?” said Arthur falteringly, his eyes wide.
“Can I have your phone-number?” said Malea.
“Sure,” said George. He signed a piece of paper he had on hand, and gave it over to Paul. Then he signed another piece of paper with their phone-number and gave it to Malea.
“Thanks, guys, this is great,” said Malea, “So, where do we get some rollerblades?”
“Well, everything’s been pretty weird lately, so you’re already wearing them,” said Paul. They were. They also had sticks.
“Do I get to whack people with this?” said Clap.
“Violence is not the answer,” said George, “Find the peace within.”
“And then it’ll really surprise them when you whack them with the stick,” said John.
“I like this game,” announced Ringo.
“What makes you think you’re better than the Ooblex Crush?” asked Ford.
“Part of the answer to that is that I don’t know who they are,” said Ringo.
“Oh,” said Ford. The paper had been signed by all, and passed back to Arthur. He put it into his bathrobe pocket disbelievingly.
“Now can we play shinny?” said Andema, “I don’t see the point of just standing here.”
“Good poi…” said Ringo.
“No,” said John, “Shinny is boring. Let’s go and critique kids shows.”
“Sounds like a plan,” said Paul.
“Oh,” said Ringo, “I was looking forward to that hockey game.” Everyone’s skates disappeared and they all moved into one of the living rooms, and sat down on the couches. John put a tape in. It happened to be Bob the Builder.
“This show is hilarious,” said John.
“Not only that, but it’s a lie,” said Paul.
“What, you mean the talking equipment?” said Ringo.
“No,” said John, “He means the cat. It’s blue. They have a practice of lying to children, don’t they.”
“Animals can talk,” said Paul.
“People can fly,” said Ringo.
“The stork brought you,” said John. Clap was trying to stay quiet and not wreck things for an unknown reason.
“So, how are you all?” said George, “You new folks.”
“I’m great,” said Malea. Arthur tried to say something, but was too overwhelmed.
“I have a question,” said Ford.
“What?’ said George.
“Is John gay?” John rolled his eyes.
“No. No I’m not. People ask me that all the time. And I’m not.”
“Yeah, but Brian did have a crush on you, definitely,” said Paul.
“Shut up,” said John.
“Argh!” said Malea. Everyone stared.
“Sorry. I’m just annoyed by that question too,” said Malea matter-of-factly.
“I’ll go get some drinks,” said Ringo, standing up and walking out of the room.
“Well, thanks,” said John, “But! The more important thing! Should Bob get some new clothing? Should all characters on children’s television shows get some new clothing? I mean, they have to have been wearing the same stuff for years!”
“I’ve been wearing the same stuff for years…” muttered Arthur.
“So have I,” said George, “Don’t worry. All my clothing looks the same now.”
“No, actually…” said Arthur nervously.
“Ew,” said Andema, “Do you even wash it?”
“I’m very attached to it,” said Arthur defensively.
“That’s it,” said Andema, “I’m cutting it up and making it into something totally new!”
“It will probably fall apart,” said Ford.
“Hey, you lot, there’s a strange kid in our kitchen,” said Ringo, leading back a small boy, “He says his name is Captain Jack Sparrow.”
“I’ve watched that movie,” said Ford, “And you really aren’t.”
“No, I am,” said the kid.
“Oh yeah?” said Clap, suddenly right beside him, her guns pressed to his head, “Well let’s just see you out-suave THIS one!”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” said the kid, “I switched essences. Only the strange girls go for me now. You have to help me!”
“I know what to do!” said George, “I learned in India! It’s all to do with the spirit…” He pushed the kid out.
“And mirrors!” he called, as he ran out after the kid. Two minutes later, George returned with actual Jack Sparrow.
“I’m… very impressed,” said Clap.
“This is interesting,” stated Paul. In the space of two seconds, both Clap and Jack had pistols pointed at each other’s heads.
“I bet you’ll flinch first,” said Clap.
“Do you?” said Jack, raising an eyebrow. They both tried to cheat, and lunged around with swords.
“So,” said John, “Does anyone like cake? There’s some in the kitchen.”
“Aha!” shouted Clap, “You let down your guard!”
“Where?” said Jack. He spun around, and when Clap tried to stab him, he parried.
“I bluffed your bluff,” explained Jack, “You should be more careful.”
“I’m the hero,” explained Clap, “I’m going to automatically win.”
“I’m a hero too,” said Jack, “If a slightly dishonest one.”
“I like cake,” said Andema.
“That’s good,” said Paul. Jack and Clap lunged for each other’s throats, and ended up in a draw. They glared at each other. Everyone else went to the kitchen. John took out the cake and Andema began to cut slices.
“This is some good cake,” said Ringo, “Believe me.” They ate. Constant cries of “Have at ye!” and “Avast!” came from the living room. It was ignored, semi-successfully.
“There was an evil witch here a bit ago,” said Paul, a trifle loudly, “She pinned us against a wall, but we managed to convince her to let us go.”
“How’d you do that?” said Ford.
“Well, I made a speech about how we were useful to the world,” said Ringo.
“And when that didn’t work, I tried to argue that she didn’t really want to kill us,” said John, “But then Paul shook his hair, and she let us go.” Paul demonstrated.
“Not a very good witch, was she,” said Andema.
“No,” said John, “She wasn’t.”
The living room was quiet.
“I’ll go check what’s happening,” said Andema, “After all, I have a gun.” She took it out, held it with both hands, and began to sneak towards the room, pressed against the wall. Eventually, she reached the living room and peered around the corner. She inched her way back.
“It’s alright,” she said, “They’re only making out on the couch.”
“What?” said Malea, “No fair! Why couldn’t I be a devilish fighter?”
“Because you’re afraid of weapons,” said Ford.
“Oh,” said Malea, “Right.”
“I suppose we’d better be leaving,” said Andema.
“Right,” said George, “Visit again sometime.”
“We’ll try,” said Malea.
“If Arthur feels up to it,” said Ford, grinning. Arthur was a mess. This was far too exciting.
Malea, Ford, and Arthur walked to the door. Andema walked into the living room, and came out leading Clap and Jack.
“Bye!” said Malea. They left the house.
“I never thought you’d do something like that,” said Andema to Clap.
“I could sing There Are Worse Things I Could Do, if you like,” said Clap.
“No, that’s fine,” said Andema.
“Because there are,” said Clap.
“Why are you part of the POLICE?’ said Jack, “You should be a space pirate. Or just a regular, much better pirate with me.” He smiled suggestively. Clap smiled back.
“Ahahaha, you’re so funny.” Jack shrugged.
“Well, I tried.”
“Oh no!” said Arthur.
“What?” said Ford.
“I’ve lost my pajama bottoms and I didn’t notice!”
“Oh,” said Ford, “That IS awkward.” A large house appeared in the middle of the field. The door opened. A man with black hair leaned out of the doorway.
“Who’s in trouble here?”
“No-one, I bet,” came a whiny annoying female voice.
“It has to be someone,” said a more reasonable female voice.
“Er…that might be me,” said Arthur.
“Why?” said the black-haired man, “What is it?”
“I’ve, erm, lost my pajama bottoms.”
“Oh so THAT’S what these are for!” came the voice of a young man. The young man pushed his way past the older man, waving a pair of pinstripe pajama pants.
“I found them today in my room, and I didn’t know what they were for!” said the younger man, who had a cheerful, anxious-to-please smile on, “And I thought ‘I’ve never see those pants before!’ So I thought…”
“They don’t want to hear your life story, Gray,” said the annoying woman snippily.
“Oh, sorry…” said Gray. He handed Arthur the pants, and went back inside apologetically.
“I…” said Arthur, “Thanks.”
“Glad we could help,” said the man with black hair. He went inside and closed the door. The house disappeared. Arthur pulled the pants on under his bathrobe.
“That could have been a very uncomfortable situation,” said Andema, “Lucky those people were there to help.”
“Yeah,” said Malea, giggling, “The Pants Patrol.”
“What, really?” said Andema. Malea couldn’t stop laughing.
“I hate fetching things,” said Rincewind angrily as he ran through the field and disappeared.
“Who was that?” said Jack, “Is your life always like this?”
“Sometimes I get to kill people too!” said Clap gleefully. Malea burst into another fit of laughter.
“KLIJY” went a magic bus as it pulled up in front of all of them.
“This is how we can get back to the spaceship!” said Arthur.
“As long as you bring me back to my ship later, I’ll come with you,” said Jack.
“Yes! Glee!” said Malea, as she climbed onto the bus. They all climbed on and sat down. The bus took off into space.

Meanwhile, during all this, Zaphod had made a somewhat nifty collage. He had had a very boring time. Malea thought this was very funny.
Trillian wasn’t even on the ship. She was trying to entertain her teenaged daughter in a day of guilt fun.

Malea always had The Beatles number. They probably all became best friends.

The End