This is just a random, unattributed list of some of the lines that tickled my fancy in some fashion as the war progressed. To those who didn't participate, consider this a teaser for reading our epic! :-) To those who did, happy reminicences! :-) (I resisted the temptation to just put in some posts _whole_!) Dianne [nothing personal if you're not on here...I ended up having to skim for extended periods of time...this is what I caught ;-] [It'll be interesting to see what others snagged out... hmmm, Perri? :-]
"Perfect. Just what we needed. And I'll need your bag of goldfish
crackers, too. Are they the original garlic flavor?"
"It's a story, of a master vampire
Who had brought across two children years before..."
"To the tesserect!" Rastro yelled, grabbing the vegemite kidnap kit.
"No, no! Aww, man, the Cousins are so toast!"
"Do you realize how dangerous it is to cross me?"
"Well, yes. That's why I'm going to hide out on the other side
of this fence."
"Oop, you're doing that no breather thing again, Erica."
"...it should be one big, control-hungry, arrogant, chaotic mob."
"Then we have found others of our kind."
"I mean what would -you- do with a Baker's Dozen of creative
minds such as theirs?"
"Run like hell," Diane muttered under her breath.
"You're *Nigel Bennet*! The actor! I'm, like, your *biggest* fan,
Mr. Bennet!" She smiled her biggest, broadest, blankest smile and
clasped both hands under her chin in apparent ecstasy.
"Get away from me before I kill you," Janette smiled at them.
"Speaking of cars exploding, where's Nat?"
***Notice: The material included in the flashback is purely to
satisfy contractual obligations to the USA Network and not to
satisfy any prurient interest on my part.***
"Let's just say there were bellbottoms involved."
"Just think - we got BARNEY on LaCroix's show! The *ultimate*
crossover :)"
"Crud. Oh crud." AC hissed, inching towards the door.
"I'm in the wrong season!"
"There isn't a lawyer in Canada who wouldn't be able to get
Janette off on a justifiable homicide plea if she happened
to stake you."
LaCroix was white with anger. His fish had been kidnapped.
His bar was being taken away by weasels....
The axe. Of *course*! Didn't every female Texan have one,
just in case she wanted to chop up her husband and his friends?
"I can't believe you said et al."
"I'm a *good* cop!"
"No, no!" Christine objected as Amy reached for a plate. "Leave the
souvlaki. It can be our burnt offering!"
"Oh *great*," said Perri sarcastically. "We're being attacked by killer
souvlaki!"
They were drawn by the power of his butt. [This] was a power he had never
considered.
"But she's..."
"Mercurial."
"A good candidate for drug therapy."
"That's right, all codependant, all the time!"
The redhead stood up, and up and up. Wow. A Valkyrie.
[Ed.--and she's never even met me! ;-]
Dawn reached into her bag and pulled out the payment. The very last
one... The last complete set of original Crayola crayons in existance
that had red-orange and a whole black.
"Can I hit her over the head? Huh? Huh? Can I, _pleeeeze_?
"Wait a minute." Lyn said. "Nick KNIGHT from CHICAGO?"
"Well I'll be damned. Looks like poor LC is already in the poopers."
"I live?"
"Just this once."
"Coooool."
"It's a good thing you're unconsious, Diane. Just remember, the
bad people who drugged you gave you all these bruises... Abby
was really gentle."
...not his *only living mortal decendant!*
Sandra giggled again, and then whistled. "Go, baby, go!"
Blink.
Blink.
Janice didn't wait another second, but grabbed her backpack and raced
out the door, following the short sister she never knew she had.
"She hasn't been able to leave Vancouver just yet, but she's
been watching through a useful plot device..."
Chris stopped, then turned around, eyes narrowed, looking even more
like a Romulan than usual.
Sara smiled sweetly. Mercs do that easily; it's in the training.
Its really awful to see a confirmed dyke going ga-ga over a man.
Even for a man as gorgeous as Vachon. Even for a vampire.
Blink.
Blink.
"We should probably ask Sheryl to read it. She may know lots of nice
interesting French anatomical terms Nick could throw on in there to
impress Janette." Catherine wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.
With just a flick of the switch, she could listen to herself there in
the loft. This kept her entertained for nearly half an hour.
"There is something strange about you" the vampire said to her.
"Sure." Dawn picked up her mug of tea which had been mysteriously made
sometime during the conversation and headed back to Diane's door.
Beware or you too will be perkulated. ]:-]
"Ew!!!! Another rat!!! I want Nick!!!!" Marcia yelled.
Like any good Natpacker, I was organized. (HA! If people can get
better laptops why can't I get better personality traits? [g])
Blink.
Blink.
"A little wine, a little starlight, and hello, face paint."
"This can't be Sydney, can it? You didn't steal him from Natalie, did you?"
"No, i've had no time. This is Ralph, the feline actor who portrayed him."
"Here's a nice little transmitting device called a 'Brick-stick',
'Schank-flank', 'Nat-rat-on', 'Janette-magnet', 'Vachon-cherchant', or
simply 'Uncle Homer'.
//on a scale of 1 to 10// she thought to herself, //10 being mildly
stupid and 1 being Nick...//
Straight on her chain-mailed butt.
"Do you have a life?"
"Why is that such a popular question? Shut up."
The door to Miklos' room was closed and dead-bolted--although she noted
a few scratches on the exterior lock, indicating that there were probably
still a few Ravenettes in serious need of hosing down.
"You twit," Rastro hit Maddog, "you've created an Schankelvis."
"I promise I won't do anything nasty to any of your people while I'm
under your protection; and if I encounter another ethical dilemma
which requires me to screw you over, I'll drop you a clue
first."
Keeping up with Janette was bad enough. Keeping up with
Amy-who-thought-she-was-Janette was a living hell.
"All right! Hey, Nick, how about Count Chocula?"
"Karen!"
//Duncan MacLeod is a fantasy figure in the Highlander universe. This is
[reel] life! I'm in Toronto participating in FK war!//
LaCroix sighed [These mortals are __so__ much trouble. Lunch. One of
these days they will all be lunch.] That thought consoled him...
Whip me. Beat me. Take away my cranberry juice. Make me write bad
fiction. :-)
Lillian raised her eyesbrows, but repeated it anyway. "I believe in
cool Caddies, regardless of color."
"I'm on a roll!" she bellowed. "Where's Nick! Tell Nick to get his
sorry butt over here!"
"He's so dense he makes gold seem bouyant."
"No guys, just me, Dianne."
"No, me Dianne, you nuts, Chris. Where the h*** is the Grand
Poohbah and the required SWAT team?"
Nick was snoring. No, actually, snoring was a bad word. Nick was
re-creating the Northridge earthquake in his nasal passages.
In a sudden fit of generosity, the things that live under your bed
have decided to send each and every person participating in the
Forever Knight war a dozen chocolate chip cookies and quart of milk.
So they were all having a darn fine time scampering around, crawling
into small spaces underneath furniture, and calling to each other.
The cats weren't having such a bad time either.
"--No one sucks like Vachon--"...
"--Scorns big bucks like Vachon--"...
"And between the sheets, nobody f--"
"It's a PG list, for Chrissake!" cried Susan...
"Underwear," mumbled Dawn. "Gold Mesh G-String."
She'd even liked meeting Nick, although she had a really hard time
looking him in the eye, knowing what Natalie had fantasized about
doing to him. She kept having these mental flashes of him in one
position or another. Not exactly condusive to a serious war discussion.
"A FIGHT. A FIGHT TO THE DEATH."
"Oh no," moaned Lana. "I thought we were over that."
Keeping an eye out for feathers, wheelchairs and Duncan MacLeod
hallucinations, Dawn hurried towards the meeting point.
...Dianne said reassuringly. "And remember, we didn't do this out of
malice, we did it for money. That makes all the difference."
"Yeah," Gabrielle chimed, "It's sort of like a cafe now. I mean, if
you just extended the awnings..."
"How does it stay up? asked Catherine, fascinated.
"You're *not* Janette. You're Amy. Two days ago you were at my apartment
apologizing for bring a suitcase, two bags, a pillow, and a stuffed orange
dragon while eating Ben & Jerry's chocolate fudge brownie out of the carton."
"So, it is to be war between us! If these demands are not met, a disaster
beyond your imagination will occur!"
"Worse than this?" Vachon queried.
"No, you don't. You can't take my karaoke. It's mine. It's too much
fun, and no screaming yellow peacock can take it away!" she challenged.
"Oh, what pretty, blue antennae you have. Do all of the people from Pluto
have them?" Jennie reached above Partly's head, as if to touch something.
"The 10TH? The 10TH!!!" I grabbed the man standing in front me. "WHAT
THE H*** HAVE I BEEN DOING FOR THE LAST WEEK AND A HALF!!!?!!!"
Dramatic light streamed over her as she stood sillouetted against the
sunset. "As God is my witness, I WILL NEVER BE SICK DURING A WAR AGAIN!"
[ACHOO!]
"Dogpile on Nick!"
LaCroix was in the process of dropping his pants on the wide-screen at
that moment. There was a collective in-take of breath. They leaned
forward, trying to . . . uh, catch the make of LC's underwear.
"GRRrrrrrrrr", Torrey growls back, her hair curling with rage.
Luckily, no one else was quite as much trouble--although Valerie asked
the nurse her opinion on silver patterns, and Jill was convinced that the
nurse was Fox Mulder come to take her away to the planet of Love.
Finally, LaCroix opened his eyes. "How 'ya doin', girls?" he asked
pleasantly in the worst Brooklyn accent Christine had ever heard.
"Any of yous seen my buddy Nicky?"
"...and I think you might have kissed Urs. Either her or Nick,
someone blond. I only saw the back of the head."
"Ooh. Fantasy-1, Reality-zip. Eat _Little_Mermaid, Voice of Boredom."
Not even the Knighties had tried to undress him. While he was awake,
at least.
Lana grinned as she watched him leave. She'd hoped the look of
raw terror on his face photographed well. 800 years old and he still
can't handle a woman.
"Oh Lu," Dawn cooed. "You can tickle me with your feather anytime."
Vamp on.
Vamp off.
Blink.
Vamp on.
Vamp off.
Blink.
Blink.
"Did you have to hug Lacroix?"
"I think that's the source of all his angst you know."
"Perri, keep it clean and in English."
Evil Black Caddy
Sound Stage 37 or Fe-Malefaction HQ
Toronto
Canada
Earth
Milky Way
Q's Fishbowl
"Hey, Dad, can I have the keys to the caddy?"
He considered Nick for a long time, but decided that living inside his
partner's brain would be entirely too wierd for words.
Boy, it was a good thing the same company who fixed the precinct wall in
retro time when *it* got blown out were available for a quick night job.
"Aww Pam, not even a little souvlaki for 'your *favorite* snugglebunny'?"
She decided that, in this case, really the only thing to do was to get
up off the floor, go to the nearest bar, and get screaming drunk.
Because apparently, she was already half there.
"Yes, it's hard to forget cutting a Jujubee out of one's hair."
"Oh, you wouldn't want to eat her either," Rastro said, "she's really
toxic and has lots of bits missing."
"Vegemite farts" muttered Maddog, disappearing into the ether.
The Lurkers, not so constrained, giggled and made sure the
video camera got plenty of shots of his polyester-clad bum.
"Spaghetti O's. I cut them into the right shapes."
"That's really disgusting," Janette commented.
"Its dripping on my pants," Nick complained.
"You got that?" The Lurker asked, wiggling the diet coke can
in front of the Detectives Face, the mustache wiggled in an
amusing fashion.
"You know, you've gotta run out of water sometime . . . ."
Amparo sat bolt upright. "Whowhatwhenwherehow? ELVIS?!!"
The others quickly shushed her. "Remember the fourth wall! DON'T
BREAK THE FOURTH WALL. My god, the next thing you know, you'll be
talking to the readers."
Erika looked at him in puzzlement, and Lisa mumbled, "He's from
Brooklyn. Besides, he IS italian after all..."
Vachon caught her eyes and mind in a rather over-handed grip.
(he was a little stressed-forgive him)...
Ari sighed. "I suppose." She tried to sit up, then fell over
with a remarkably Weeble-like gesture. From the floor, she
intoned, "How's this?...
"CURE SLUT!" The two high-fived each other with an evil laugh.
Miklos came to the open door, looked in, and shook his head,
smiling. [Let's face it, they're all on drugs,] he thought.
"She conked out on that pile of tarp over there... something
about wake her for Armageddon or Nick naked, but nothing else... "
It wasn't exactly like the opening credits of FK, but then, she
didn't have the music playing or a funky light filter in front of
her eyes, either.
One, run away. Two, scream. Then, run away. Three, try something
really unusual and hope she wasn't forced into doing numbers one
or two.
"Just what I needed to know...," she grumbled to herself. "I top
the list in vampire good eats."
"Oh, in that case your pants are bordering on a major accident
and are quite obscene," Janette smiled, adlibbing a bit.
Smiling weakly, she did what any other self-respecting person would
do in a similar situation. She collapsed into a dead faint.
"I knocked on the door. I think he said 'Go away' in Hungarian.
Either that or 'Make it stop, please make it stop!'"
As Dianne slipped into the car, she squealed, "Kitties, You
brought me kitties!"
"If this is my family, I want to be an orphan."
"Name: Emily Messinger, Rank: novice, No serial number."
"Look!" Valerie exclaimed. "WHUMP! It says WHUMP!"
"...that's not how . . . uh . . . how it's done. It's not . . ."
Sharon searched for the right word.
"Physically possible given current human anatomy?" Jill filled in.
"I did something nasty," Jamie announced, as she entered Merc HQ,
"and I got paid for it. Can I be a Merc now?"
"'ere I am," Screed dressed in a fifties-style house dress and
pink fuzzy slippers entered the stage.
Promotional stills of certain vampire butts decorated the walls.
"We're on the Love Boat, you git!" Maddog finally broke the silence.
Death by LaCroix was suddenly looking good.
The latter term sent Jennie off into another fit of giggles, and she
mumbled something about picturing Susan with little flapping wings.
"It, ah...needs to be fed."
He showed Miklos the label, which plainly (well, to them it was plain)
read "Brazilian Missionary, 1749".
She began, quite calmly, "We need a moose."
And so it was, while running in the middle of downtown Toronto, chains
rattling to and fro, a blood-soaked doggie biscuit around her neck, and
a flying dog after her, Catherine pondered the meaning of it all.
Vachon's hair was wilder than usual. He couldn't believe that Torrey had
tried to braid part of it when he wasn't looking.
"Lu and Mo?" interjected Laura.
She felt in her back pocket for the small stack of cards for the Queen
Street Mental Health Clinic. It had decreased noticibly since the start
of the evening.
"That blow would have killed a mortal. With Nick? I doubt it even
knocked any sense into him"
...having now developed a lightning-fast reflex where it came to
keeping the female members of damn near any affiliation at a safe
distance from Miklos.
"IRC chat," was the reply, "for alt.fan.barney.die.die.die. They're on
every night."
Our operatives heard stories about Q-tips, hearts with arrows in them,
kidnappings, robberies, food tampering, even [shudder] cross-dressing
and cow patties.
Emily seized the moment and ran for the door, grabbing the bag of
coffee beans as she sped past.
"Blast! Nicky-poo, stop purring at Janette and come show me where you got
this stuff! Come show me and I'll give you some nice salmon!"
"Your hair makes you look like a Natpacker. Do you reeeaaaalllyy
want to look like a Natpacker in the middle of this war?"
"No, Angie, I'm not calling to borrow anything. I'm calling to see how
high you can possibly make a phone bill go before they cut off service."
LaCroix was lounging against the wall, with his maniacs scattered
around him.
"And I trust that's exactly what we're going to hear right now," he
continued, "because I'm in no mood for fiction."
"That was our mistake. We underestminated people's capacity for chaos."
"How do you know it's not a Beretta?" Catherine asked in a low whisper.
"Her dad told us," Amy D whispered back.
"Dogpile on the morons!!!!!"
She barely glanced at the group of Raven\ettes, from whom a
startled and collective "Eeep!" had been emitted at an indeterminate
octave.
It was a relief to be able to eat something without having it turn into a
giant, glowing green toad.
How the hell does one top 1,000 gallons of sticky
red fluid cascading from an elevator? She felt like Stanley Kubrick.
I thought he'd say, `how do you do, my dear, I've heard wonderful things about
your work', not `come here, you horrible little mortal, I'm gonna rip your
throat out!'
"Blood Clots: The Official Vampire Party Snack. Crunchy on the outside,
with a soft, liquid center" (TM)
*FLASH*
"*Gaaaaaah!*"
"Mumble, mumble. Mumble, mumble, mumble!"
[rewind]
She had been taken out by an enemy more unkind than
Ravenettes, more annoying than Knighties, more frustrating
than Die-Hards, harder to fight back against than Mercs.
Midterms.
Abby edged away from her Poobah, not wanting to be too close to
*anyone* with a smile like that.
"I love a happy ending," Catherine sighed.
"Oh, I think I'm going to be sick," Sharon commented, frowning at Catherine.
"We help create the stories, and we sit around and enjoy 'em -- and
whatever would you do without an audience?"
Then again, it didn't seem entirely right when viewed in [any] direction,
because no matter which way you chose, the picture broke the laws of
physics, gravity, and certain portions of various legal codes in at least
three states.
"It's not easy being green..." Jennie murmured.
All the Mercs continued partying (which they do so well,
after all), oblivious to their soused leader.
"..need ..home..cab...,please?"
but what else on
earth, if not love, could induce the Janette DuCharme he knew to shelter
mortals and do lower mathematics?
You're nothing
but a megomaniac with delusions of grandeur and a decent knowledge of
literary works." Dawn snorted.
"Imagine . . . if you will . . . that there's flight involved."
Cousin Deb (who up until
this point had been hiding in the D.J. booth and was found by me --Cayman
Islands my* Arse*!)
Bewildered, Nick looked around -- there were Q-tips stuck in his hair,
"We followed LaCroix around
that entire weekend and extoiled on the virtues on him working out on a
Stairmaster. I mean the Venerable Object has to get toned somehow!"
"The cow blood face!" crowed Valerie and Jennie.
"Don't worry, Nick," Christine promised him. "That's another storyline.
And since we're backposting, you probably have Natalie back already!"
And they all laughed. Wasn't war just grand?
"Hi, I'm Candice, *Cousin* Candice, to be more precise."
//H*ll!// The next sip Dawn took from her glass went down like a stone in
her throat.
While LaCroix's expression had been one of fear
and anger, Nick's looked like just plain fear. Of course, Dawn was reaching
for his belt buckle at the time.
"MAYBE..."
"Because, because, uuhhhhhhhh well, I guess, that's about
it. I'm going to go now. Okay?"
(Lane (tm) appears by his own permission.)
Of course, one of the Natpackers wouldn't be at all happy when she got back
to New York and found that all the beer in the United States and Canada had
been replaced with Dr. Pepper, or that all her primates had been taught to
say "We want Nick!" in sign language, but fair was fair.
Oh, my goodness, my frivolous little post just turned into "Like Water
for Chocolate." Just be glad it didn't turn into "The Bridges of
Toronto County."
"What?" Amparo looked as lost as Vachon in a barber shop.
"Nick, you *will* be ecstatically happy to see us next time, won't you?"
"Next time, I'm bringing a tape recorder."
"Next time, I'm changing the locks."
"Yeah, but does everyone know about [your] obsession with LaCroix's butt?"
"I must have run down a cart full of nuns in a past life."
...PowerBars (TM), the official energy bar of the Imaginary Bicyclists of Toronto.
The Cousin looked over at LaCroix and stated the obvious. "It's a
flaming steak."
the music suddenly stopped, and faintly someone
muttered "Um, let me out? Please." through the air holes.
"But this--- I mean--- you're all like my
family. Better, even. You watch "Forever Knight".
Comments, complaints, flames, blessings, revelations from the heavens, stakes, dead otters, chocolate, and the like may be sent to Cat.Goddess@pobox.com.