A short fic in answer to one posted by Roger E. Moore. This fic is Daria characters dropped into a DragonLance scene.
For Roger… by Dr. Mike
The evening was in full swing as Tika stepped over passed out farm hand and set the loaded tray down on the table. As she passed out the plates of potatoes, her eyes kept roaming back to the old man sitting in the corner with one child on his knee and surrounded by many others. He had entered the Inn during the slow afternoon, past mealtime and continued into the evening. He had spent most of it talking to the patrons as if they knew each other for their entire lives but no one could figure out what his name was or where he was from. She shrugged as she remembered the many times she had tried to refill the geezer’s mug of ale but it had always been full. Whenever she had passed him during the day, he had been taking long drinks out of it but never seemed to need a refill. She shrugged as she passed out the last heaping plate and moved over to another table which needed more ale. As she poured, the door to the Inn slammed open. Four young woman entered, wrapped in hooded travelling cloaks. They approached an empty table, sat down, and threw back their cloaks.
“I can’t believe we had to climb up all those stairs,” moaned Sandi as she rubbed the backs of her legs. “Whose idea was it to put an inn so high up in the trees? Some of us have four inch heels and could have tripped or gotten a heel caught.”
“San-di. All those stairs are good for your legs,” supported Quinn as she too started to rub. “And the new heels are wider to prevent catching them in holes.”
“Are you suggesting that my thighs and legs need help, Quinn?” pouted Sandi. “Or that there’s a problem with the way I walk?”
“Oh no. Not your legs, Sandi. They’re just too perfect. And your walking is just superb!”
“Even though. I’m going to have to mark your rather unflattering remark towards me as a demerit on your Fashion Club scorecard.”
“I didn’t know we had Fashion Club scorecards,” questioned Quinn.
“Neither did I,” Stacy defended as well.
“Me.” She paused and counted on her fingers fairly quickly. “Three.” droned Tiffany. This earned Stacy and Tiffany an evil glare from their club president. Stacy gets a bit nervous while Tiffany ignores it.
Sandi went on. “And who ever heard of a fashion show in a small hick town? Stacy, where is it again?”
“Solace. It’s on the map.”
“Tiffany, are you sure we’re going in the right direction?”
“Sure. My. Family. Goes. There. Every. Year. South. On. I. Ninety. Five. And. Then. On. I. Four.” Tiffany holds out the map, which Quinn takes and holds out between herself and Sandi.
“Tiffany dear. This is a map of Florida. Your family goes there every year for vacation.”
“I. Like. Mickey.” mentioned Tiffany as she stares off into space.
“Guys, look at everyone’s clothes.” Stacy was staring around the hall. They all turned and looked at the other patrons. “Don’t they wear something besides brown in this town?”
“Brown is so last year.” Quinn knew her clothes.
“EEWWWW!!!” went all four as Tika comes up to stand at the table in between Quinn and Sandi. She outweighs them by a good twenty pounds and, *cough*, has a good five inches on them if you know what I mean.
“What are you ladies having this evening?”
“What is the salad special for this evening?” Sandi asked in her most formal voice.
“And do you have any diet sodas?” asked Quinn.
“We only have salads when the crops are in. You’re a month too late for them. Now we’re serving ale and potatoes!” She travels to the bar, placed a mug in front of each of the girls and poured the brown rich ale for each of them. Quinn’s, Sandi’s, and Stacy’s eyes go wide with the sight of the brew.
“Cool. They. Didn’t. Even. Card. Us.” Tiffany said as she downed her ale in one swallow, belched and slammed the mug down. The other three looked Tiffany, then at one another, shrugged and chanced small sips as Tika returned with plates of hot potatoes.
We fade to black and see the words “30 minutes later…” We return to Stacy sitting at the DragonLance version of a piano trying to play a tune while Quinn and Sandi sitting on top. They sit, arms around each other, rocking back and forth belting out some weird drinking song that they don’t know the words to. Tiffany is off in a corner sitting on some farmer’s lap sucking face. Fizban walks into the shot, looks at the camera with a raised eyebrow, looks at our four, and turns back to the camera. He pauses for a moment until shaking his head.
“Nah!” as he walks off.
Heh heh heh. 🙂
Roger E. Moore gave us a treat a few months back when he wrote a quick small what-if piece for us. Tasslehoff, Caramon, and Raistlin teleport into Quinn’s bedroom and Tas finds lots of neat interesting stuff to “examine”. I’ve been kicking around the idea to drop some of the Daria characters into the DragonLance universe since then. Maybe someday I or someone else will expand on this.