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Post by Alice Wilde on Jul 8, 2007 18:23:07 GMT -5
“You’re going to hell.” Ann told her.
Kate leaned back. “And...?”
The night was old on 667 Dark Avenue. It had been five years and a few days. The past stood between them like a line at Six Flags. So many people had vanished from their lives and so many people had tried to fill the void. But nothing can fix a lost friendship.
“I’m pretty sure we’ve done worse things.” She flipped through blank pages. The little brown notebook had not had any printed instructions but she knew what it was. Hell, she’d Wikipediaed it.
“No, Kate, a quick mental run-through of all our displays of panache shows that killing people is the worst thing we’ve done. I mean, I know that one time we made fun of that one really cool member ranks close but killing people beats it.” Ann watched Kate lick her pen, scribble a little bit to see if it was working.
“It’s not killing people.” She rolled her eyes. “Think of it as late abortion.”
“We got locked from that, too. Remember five minutes ago? The whom-to-abort thread?”
“Ooh, good place to start.” Kate clicked the mouse. “Let’s see who got the most votes...”
“Kate!”
The pen dropped. Kate adjusted her glasses and stared at her friend. “You’ve got to stop worrying, dahling. It does the most awful things to your lack of morality. And, if you don’t take my advice, I’ll late-abort all the heterophobes first.”
Ann sighed and picked up the pen. Kate grinned. Her fingers twitched over the first page of the notebook as she...slowly...wrote the first name. “You’re still going to hell.” Ann told her.
Kate leaned back. “And...?”
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Post by Spymaster E on Jul 8, 2007 18:43:29 GMT -5
I guess I'll have to look at the "Who to abort" thread to get some of this.
All in all, it's great. Write more, soon.
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Post by Indistinguishable Blob on Jul 8, 2007 19:20:25 GMT -5
All in all: cute, but not particularly realistic. As if Ann would kill me for the sake of humanity, much less try to talk me out of it! Ann is probably more dead inside than I am, and that's a fact!
People say I'm cool, Yeah, I'm a cool chick, baby. Every day I thank god That I'm such a cool chick, baby. A friend lent me shades So I could hide my eyes that day. Was a snowy day, The shades have seen a lot of things I didn't want to know myself. Was like an accident, part of growing up, People tell me. But something inside me, something inside me died that day.
Reason for Editing: Yoko ono had something to say.
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Post by PJ on Jul 9, 2007 1:02:41 GMT -5
Heh. Nice. Are you going to continue this?
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Post by idiotj on Jul 9, 2007 1:25:29 GMT -5
Oh, Alice, you've done it again. You and PJ should do it more.
...wait, what?
Reason for Editing: And also Sam
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Post by Sora on Jul 9, 2007 4:28:32 GMT -5
Yay, Kate and Ann fan fiction. Nice introduction, please continue amigo.
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Post by Alice Wilde on Jul 14, 2007 0:52:06 GMT -5
“I’m sorry, but there’s not much I can do for him.” Robert rested his head on his hand. Sun light was pouring into the room...Who’s potato ing idea was it to make a hospital full of glass? Demented patients could be running into everything, slitting their wrists... His desk was cluttered, his computer flickering with pornography and video games. “He’s dead.”
His fellow and best friend, J., paced in front of his desk. “The kid had a tumor where his heart should have been.” She bit her lip. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“And neither will I, if you’ll go away.” He said.
“If I go away, you will see something like it. Because I’m only leaving when you say ‘yes’.” She sat down in a chair. Robert groaned and groped the side of his desk. Come on, where is it? His fingers raced across the wood.
A crutch.
He nudged J’s chair with it.
Nothing happened. The chair didn’t budge. Robert nudged the chair again and watched as she sighed. “Please, Robert. As a favor to me.”
“Ooh, there was in urgency in that I liked.” He glanced up, still nudging. The chair began to scoot closer to the exit. “What was his deal? You potato this kid or something?”
“If it makes it easier, sure.” J stood up as the chair came close to hitting a wall. Robert smirked and lay his head down. “You’ll do it?”
“You went to med school, too. You’re the oncologist.” He tossed the crutch back to the floor. “Tumors are your thing.”
She made for the door. “Fine...”
“J.”
She looked, theatrically.
“Why?”
“I used to make fun of him before. Normally, that wouldn’t bother me but it’s not everyday that the latest thing in cancer is someone I used to bait.” J shrugged, put her hand on the handle. Waited.
“See, if this was a television series, I would give you a slash-filled hug. But, in reality, you’re a chick so that wouldn’t be slash.” Robert called. “There would also be tinkly music and an emotional insight.”
J grinned. “If only.”
-
Robert limped into his meeting room. He had been working at 667 Cliche General for five years now, meriting a room with a sink, white board, and a table. His crutch slid across the linoleum, shrieking like a soprano.
“What’s wrong with you?” Charlotte asked from the table. She sat next to Pandora and Sam...The Team. Also known as the people who fetched Robert things and were eye-candy for the other doctors. Charlotte happened to be the newest selection.
Pandora was the veteran, couldn’t list the times she’d seen Robert involved in something odd. And “odd”, in most cases, meant “illegal”. She supposed it was an old rivalry, doctors and cops. Two people that both protected and scared the salsa out of the people they served.
Sam was Australian and gorgeous. Robert seemed to like him the most, but that could be because he also was a certified pharmacist and who didn’t like pills every now and then? Pandora and Sam shared a glance before eyeing Robert’s crutch.
“Got shot in a drive-by.” Robert hobbled, placed a file on the table.
“Siriusly?” Pandora asked.
Sam leafed through the file, furrowed his brow. He tapped Charlotte’s shoulder. She examined it and frowned.
“No, just trying to get better parking. I’m hung-over.” Robert threw the crutch away, noticed the cups sitting on the table. “Is that coffee?”
“This guy’s dead.” Sam said.
“I thought we’d try something that you all couldn’t potato up.” Robert rubbed his temple. “Sam, where’s the bourbon?”
Sam pointed to the sink.
“Please tell me you’re going to share that...” Pandora said. “We’ve never killed anyone.”
But Robert was occupied with unscrewing the cap of a half-empty bottle.“And you never will if you don’t drink on the job.” He drank, wiped his lips, and turned back. “This kid’s heart turned into a tumor. Any guesses?”
Charlotte looked again. “Drugs?” She tossed the file to Pandora.
“Lupus?” Pandora tossed it to Sam.
The Australian paused for a moment before pronouncing “Terrorists.”
The girls stared.
Robert wrote all three ideas on the white board, his letters sprawling in all directions. Sunlight blasted from these windows as well...He shielded his eyes and gestured with a red marker. “Okay, while Sam and I test for terrorists, you two scope out the kid’s pad for drugs.”
“What about lupus?” Charlotte asked.
“It’s never lupus.” as the word was crossed from the board.
“I don’t think that terrorists have invented anything that could convert red blood cells into ...” Pandora trailed off. “Well, whatever this thing is.”
Robert nodded. “You’re right. Which is why you need to go find some narcotics, take them, and this will all seem like a good idea. Come on, Sam,” He picked up the crutch. Sam followed him into the hall, where he stuck his head through the door.
“And if you find anything good, do bring it back.”
-
“For what are we looking?” Kate lobbed a plush basketball at Ann’s head. The latter caught it and dropped it before resuming scouring the bedroom. Posters of emo popstars slitting their wrists and glow-in-the-dark paint stuck to the walls.
“Anything that could tie his death to us.” Ann replied. “You saved my ass once and I figured that you’d want me to return the favor.”
“You’re always thinking of me. It’s kind of sweet. Just like the taste of freedom, huh, jailbird?”
-
As she said this, Charlotte and Pandora entered downstairs. The house had been deserted since the death...A layer of dust coated everything. Dressed in civilian clothes, Charlotte couldn’t help but wonder what sort of germs were floating in the air.
“So how was Sam last night?” Pandora asked.
“Sam and I are just homefries.” Charlotte said. “He’s too good-looking to date. And you know he and Robert probably have something special.”
-
Upstairs, a drawer spilled onto the floor. Ann shifted through its contents as Kate wandered around her. “See,” Kate folded her arms and leaned against lacquered black eyeliner and razor blades. “Your problem was that you killed your guy in a fit of passion. No planning, whatsoever.”
“You also had the advantage of a mysterious notebook that kills without trace.”
“I mean, a croquet mallet?” She continued. “Admittedly awesome, Annabel, although---”
The door swung open.
“What alliteration!” Pandora handed some cotton swabs to Charlotte before holding her hand out to Kate.“Sorry about that. Just heard you talking...” Ann froze on the floor and could not concentrate on breathing. “Hello, we’re doctors. We’re attempting to find the cause of death of the guy who used to live here.”
“We were his lesbian lovers.” Kate shook Pandora’s hand. “‘Wish we could help you, but there wasn’t a lot of talking in our relationship. All that sex and whatnot...”
Charlotte began to scale the room, noting all misplaced by Ann. “Looks like you’re searching for something. Do you know if this guy was into drugs?”
“We didn’t make him OD or anything.” Kate said. “We’re not murderers.”
“Kate!”
There was a pause as the two glared at each other.
Charlotte backed into Pandora. “Maybe we’ve come at a bad time...”
“Oh, Jesus Christ, Kate, now we can’t let them leave.” Ann reached underneath a dresser, pulled out a box of razor blades. The doctors reeled as Kate shoved her hand into a hole in the mattress and pulled out a steak knife.
“May God bless emo kids.” Ann smiled. “They always know where to keep a weapon.” -
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Post by BSam on Jul 14, 2007 4:13:47 GMT -5
“Okay, while Sam and I test for terrorists, you two scope out the kid’s pad for drugs.” i love you twice nightly so much
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J.
Reptile Researcher
Posts: 22
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Post by J. on Jul 14, 2007 5:09:09 GMT -5
Alice. Oh Alice. There's a tumor where my heart should be and it's called you, Alice. (That wasn't as...uh...didn't sound as complimentary as I intended.)
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Post by Indistinguishable Blob on Jul 14, 2007 13:58:27 GMT -5
So I killed one guy, went to jail, Kate busted me out and now she's killing James with a notebook but House/Robert doesn't know that so he's trying to figure out how he died?
Just checking.
Also, would we really be lesbian lovers if we were sleeping with James?
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Post by Indistinguishable Blob on Jul 14, 2007 14:04:10 GMT -5
Also, would we really be lesbian lovers if we were sleeping with James? In before someone comments with something derogatory towards James' masculinity. As it is, it's not every day that I'm stuck into a House parody/rip-off/recap, and I'm honored.
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J.
Reptile Researcher
Posts: 22
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Post by J. on Jul 14, 2007 14:25:25 GMT -5
Also, would we really be lesbian lovers if we were sleeping with James? In before someone comments with something derogatory towards James' masculinity. As it is, it's not every day that I'm stuck into a House parody/rip-off/recap, and I'm honored. You should be especially honored. It's written by Alice. She's the tumor on the heart of my soul. Here's a picture I drew of Wilson being tentacle uh, attacked.
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Post by Alice Wilde on Jul 14, 2007 16:16:07 GMT -5
Also, would we really be lesbian lovers if we were sleeping with James? Who said it was James? He wasn't even an option in the whom-to-abort thread. And no, you wouldn't be. I put that in there for anyone scanning the page for the word 'lesbian' and for the amusement of the reader. Obviously, it didn't work. Sorry. ): Those are beautiful tentacles, J.
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J.
Reptile Researcher
Posts: 22
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Post by J. on Jul 14, 2007 16:17:13 GMT -5
Also, would we really be lesbian lovers if we were sleeping with James? Who said it was James? He wasn't even an option in the whom-to-abort thread. He just goes without saying. WHY CAN'T I STOP BEING MEAN.
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Post by Alice Wilde on Jul 14, 2007 16:18:34 GMT -5
Do you really want James to be the dead kid?
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