[FIC]When Darkness Falls 6/unknown
Aug. 26th, 2006 10:34 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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wl_fanfictionNo angst in this one. No sex. No illigitimate infants *snicker* (although...) Nope. All we have is a game of Sentences. I would like to thank the following people who supplied the sentences which I then used:
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
clayangel, saltyj, zekkass, broadway_bound3, and lastly, but not leastly, my bestest esse in the whole wide world, the Mighty E (who is totally freaked by the idea of RPF/RPS and so will tottally skeeve when I tell her I mentioned her name in one! Heh heh heh.)TITLE: When Darkness Falls
PAIRING: Ryan/Colin (past) None this chapter
RATING: Let's say PG
PART: 6/who the heck knows!
DISCLAIMER: What you see beneath is FICTION. It is only FICTION, and is not to be anything other than FICTION. Don't own, don't sue.
SUMMARY: What's a DL soap opera without a good game of Sentences, I ask you? Huh? Or, maybe, a mediocre game. Hell, I didn't have a lot to choose from, okay?!?!?
The Boise State crowd was just as warm and welcoming as its brethren from Washington State, if not quite as boisterous. Drew figured maybe that was because they lived in Idaho, but he wasn’t sure and wasn’t going to say it aloud, either. He valued his life too much, and you never knew, these days.
The show had gone well so far, though both Ryan and Colin seemed a bit subdued. Come to think of it, so did Brad and Jeff, but they were all performing well, so Drew saw no need to mention anything to any of them.
Kathy Greenwood was announcing the next game, which was “Sentences”, while Kathy Kinney skipped along the front of the stage, an absolutely atrocious beribboned basket in her hand as she collected the sentences written down by the audience members. On the other end of the stage, Colin was helping as well, his hands filled with folded strips of paper, which he then passed onto Kathy K.
“Alright, Kathy, looks like we have all of our sentences gathered. Who’s starting the game?”
“That would be Chip and Jeff.”
“Ok, Chip and Jeff, front and center if you please,” Drew said, and the men came forward to generous applause. “Kathy, what’s their scene?”
“Chip and Jeff are two paratroopers who have landed behind enemy lines somewhere in France and have to secure a bridge to allow for an Allied landing.”
Kathy K brought over the basket and both men took several handfuls of paper and stuffed them in their pockets unread.
“Alright, gentlemen,” Drew said, “if you’re ready, start your scene.”
Chip mimed holding a rifle and chewing some gum. “Say, whereabouts are we, anyway?”
Jeff pretended to look at the sky, then at a compass, then mimed unfolding a map, then shrugged. “Somewhere in France.”
“Well, how ‘bout them apples?” Chip asked, adopting some sort of southern accent. Just which sort, no one was really sure, including Chip himself. “There’s a Somewheres in Fray-an-SEE, too? Ain’t that somethin.”
Jeff pretended to smack Chip on the head. “You’re an idiot, Private.”
“Why yessir, I shore am! That’s what my mama used ta call me all that time. Ijit!”
Jeff rolled his eyes. “How appropriate.” He looked around. “Now, there’s got to be a bridge around here somewhere.”
“Course there is, Sarge! We’re in Somewheres, and the bridge is in Somewheres, so the bridge is here!” Chip nodded proudly, then ducked another slap from Jeff. “Hey! Watch it! Thems good eatin’ brains up thar, ya know. Mama always says brains is the best part, cause they makes ya think good!”
“Well, I’ll tell you, Private, what my Mother always said.” He pulled out a sentence, unfolded it, and read it. “Is that a pistol in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”
“Boy howdy!” Chip laughed, slapping his knee. “Shore we ain’t kin, Sarge? Cause that’s ‘xactly what my own mama said ta me too! Course, we’s cousins an’ all, so that makes it alright. We’s from Idaho, ya know.”
A series of loud boos assailed them from the audience, and Chip cheerfully flipped the whole of them off.
Jeff shuddered, then froze. “Quick! Hide! I hear the enemy approaching!”
“Enema? No siree! Don’t want one a’them, if it’s all the same to ya, Sarge. Why, my mama….”
“Shut. Up! Hide! Quick!”
“Too late, you GI pig-dog,” Greg stated, strolling out in his best ‘Nazi’ strut, using his best German accent, which was very good. “You thought you could slip by us, like slippery eels, but ha! We eat eels for breakfast, with a little borsht and sauerkraut on the side.” He turned his head to one side. “Klink! Klink, get your bumbling hide over here! I’ve found them!”
Rolling his eyes and sighing quietly, Colin entered the game, miming a crop under one arm and a monocle in one eye. “General Burkhalter! I was just coming to see you, sir!” Colin might not have been one for impressions, but his Klink was really quite good. The audience cheered and laughed in approval.
“Of course you were, you idiot. Now see here. I’ve managed to capture two American spies, at great danger to myself, mind you….”
“Oh, you weren’t in any danger at all, sir,” Chip chimed in. “Why, my gun don’t even have any bullets in it. OW!!!”
“Kidding,” Jeff said. “He’s kidding. American joke. You wouldn’t get it.”
“You’d be surprised,” Greg replied before turning to Colin. “As I was saying, I managed to capture these two spies. You, Klink, will interrogate them.”
“Sh-shouldn’t we wait for Major Hochstetter, General? He is, after all, a master interrogator.”
“And you’re a master idiot! Now do what I say! Schnell! Schnell!”
“Alright. Alright.” Colin stepped forward. “What are your names?”
“Hey!” Chip said, stepping forward, “we ain’t supposed ta give you nothin but our name, rank and cereal numbers. Ah ain’t rightly shore what a cereal number is, but I likes my Cap’n Crunch!”
Jeff rolled his eyes again, then kicked Chip, who rubbed his butt.
“Names, please.”
“Wha, wha, ma name is…well, it’s…it’s…..hang on, I got it written down somewheres ‘round here.” Chip reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “Ma name is I’m Your Illegitimate Butt-Baby.”
“That’s a very long name?” Colin/Klink replied.
“Thas cause I got me a lotta pappies,” Chip replied proudly. “Yes siree. A whole mess of ‘em. I’m from Idaho, ya know.”
More boos.
“Your name?” Colin/Klink asked Jeff.
Before Jeff could answer, the sound effect of a long whistle was followed by an explosion, and Ryan and Drew rushed onto the scene, both miming holding rifles. “Thank god we found you guys!” Ryan shouted. “Come on! The bridge is over here!”
“Halt!” Greg commanded. “Surrender your weapons, pig-dogs, and you won’t be hurt. You are now prisoners of the Fuehrer, who always says ‘Would you please get off the ceiling fan?’ Because, you know, it goes round and round and makes him dizzy.”
“Bang!” said Ryan.
“Bang!” said Drew.
Greg and Colin fell to the stage.
Chip also fell. “He got me, Sarge! He got me!”
“Not you, you idiot!” Jeff replied, pulling Chip up by one arm. “Let’s get outta here before more krauts find us! Say! What unit are you boys from?”
“The Flying Fourteenth!” Ryan said, beaming. “You know our motto….”
“Yeah,” Drew replied, pulling out a piece of paper, “that’s what you get for licking the linoleum.”
The men looked at one another for a moment, then nodded. “Good motto.”
“Who’s Lin Oleam?” Chip asked. “OW!!!”
“Pull yourself together, Private!” Jeff ordered. “You’re carrying the General’s secret orders!”
“Oh yeah?” Ryan asked. “What secret orders are those?”
Chip pulled out another sentence. “I haven’t had my coffee yet.” He smacked his own head. “Dang! I knew thar was sumthin I wuz s’posed to do afore I jumped!” He began to walk off.
Drew grabbed him. “No time for that! We’ve got to get to the bridge!”
The four men ran across the stage to the ‘bridge’. Brad slipped in front of them, and the others skidded to a halt.
“Who are you?!” Ryan demanded, aiming his ‘rifle’ at him.
Brad smirked. “I’m Major SNAFU.”
“Is that with two ‘F’s?” Chip asked. “OW!!”
“Not a very inspiring name,” Jeff muttered.
Brad shrugged. “Now, we’ve got to hold this bridge, men, because books are considerably less boring than whacking at people with a big stick of metal."
“What?” Chip asked. “This bridge leads to a li-bary? I ain’t never been to no li-bary before! OW!!!!!”
Greg and Colin rushed back onstage. “Thank goodness we finally found you!” Greg said.
“Wait,” Drew replied, lifting his ‘rifle’. “Aren’t you two…?”
“We converted,” Colin replied.
The others shrugged, then nodded.
“Okay, then,” Brad said, “you two new guys, take these explosives and mine that bridge.”
“Yuk, yuk,” Chip said, slapping his knee. “Are yew stupid, Major. Everybody knows that you need a pick ta mine, not explosives! OWWW!!!!”
“Yoo Hoo!”
The men spun. Kathy K sauntered on, hands on her hips.
“Who the fuck are you?” Drew demanded.
“I am Inga, famous porn star from Sveeeeden! You might have seen me in Shaving Ryan’s Privates.”
The men spun back, staring at Ryan.
“Hey! It was getting itchy down there!”
“And why are you here?” Brad asked.
“Vell, I am here because….” Since she had no pockets, she reached into Colin’s and pulled out a slip of paper, “…because Downy soothes even the most savage of fashions, and boy are you guys savage!”
“This from someone who looks like the gay Teletubby puked all over her,” Drew muttered.
“Alright,” Brad said. “Just…go up front there and if you see the enemy approach, distract them.”
“Distract them how?”
“I don’t know! Do the dance of…the really big purple veil or something.”
“I know! I know! I vill do some of the scenes from my best vork….” She pulled a slip from Brad’s pocket, “ze famous Help! My Toe Is Stuck In The Bathtub Faucet!”
“Yeah, whatever, just go!”
“Halt!” shouted Kathy G stumbled out, miming holding her own rifle and using a very bad German accent. “You are all under arrest!”
Jeff stepped forward. “Aren’t you a little…small to be serving in the army?”
Kathy G pulled out a slip of paper. “Um…never eat yellow snow!”
“Huh?”
“My English ees not so good…er.…caribou nibbling at the croquet hoops?”
“What?”
“Um…potatoes are a girl’s best friend!”
“Come on.”
“Boise State rocks?”
Cheers. Hoots. Hollers. Etc.
“Ha! HA!” Greg shouted, jumping forward and pulling Colin with him. “You stupid Americans, so easily fooled.” He mimed pointing a pistol at the group. “We have mined your precious bridge, and if you will all be so kind as to step upon it, we will blow you all to Kingdom Come! HAHAHAHAHAHA!”
“Bang!” shouted Ryan.
“Bang!” shouted Drew.
Colin and Greg fell, once again, to the stage.
“And ya’ll call me stupid!” Chip said.
“Wait!” Colin husked. “General Burkhalter, before I die…there’s something I’ve always wanted…to tell you….”
“Well? What is it, dumkopf? I’m busy dying here, you know.”
“Well…I just…wanted…to say….” He opened his piece of paper, and held back a smirk. “…that…that bald guy is totally hot!”
The cast grinned as the crowd erupted into laughter and cheers, and Drew, waving his hand, ended the game.
*******
Don't worry, there's plenty more angst (and sex!) ahead. To be continued.
no subject
Date: 2006-08-26 04:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-26 05:03 pm (UTC)And thanks, Kathy K is really fun to write.
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Date: 2006-08-26 05:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-26 05:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-26 07:58 pm (UTC)OMG a Monty Python quote in a WL fic. That's too cool.
I also loved the ending.
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Date: 2006-08-26 09:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-26 09:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-26 09:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-26 10:14 pm (UTC)Great fun to read! Looking forward to more.
PS I loved "Hey it was getting itchy down there!" LOL
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Date: 2006-08-26 10:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-07 12:41 am (UTC)Kathy K is quickly becoming one of my fav. characters, here. ;D