This is an amateur, non-commercial story, which is not produced, approved of, or in any way sponsored by the holders of the trademarks/copyrights from which this work is derived, nor is it intended to infringe on the rights of these holders. And so it goes.
From time to time (read--whenever I'm bored at work and want to make The Redhead's day a bit more surrealistic), I write short snippets from various shows and send them to her. Here are a few of what I call "Ten Second Tales" for your amusement:
Carter looked around the well-kept farm for a moment before returning his attention to the couple in front of him. "So, let's go over this one more time," he said, glancing over at the little boy playing with a big rubber ball nearby. "You were driving home from Eureka one evening last week, and you thought you saw a meteorite falling into your fields."
"That's right, Sheriff," the husband nodded, wrapping a protective arm around his wife.
"Okay. So you went out there and discovered a big furrow where it had hit...and when you got up close, you discovered that it wasn't a meteorite, but some sort of alien...rocket ship."
"Yes, yes," the wife snapped, shuddering slightly. "I don't know why you're repeating all these questions, Sheriff. We went over all this with the Global Dynamics people several times." Her eyes shifted over to the boy, who was struggling to retrieve his ball from beneath Carter's SUV.
"I understand that, ma'am," Carter said patiently. "It's just that..." He took a deep breath. "Are you absolutely sure that it hadn't been opened? That nothing manged to work its way out? Because the techs there firmly believe that..." Carter heard a strange sound from behind and instinctively turned around. His eyes widened for just a moment as he took in the sight before him.
"Could you please ask your son to set my car back down on the ground?" he finally said.
This was inspired by the Redhead hunting for decent Eureka fanfic and finding only a boatload of Stark/Carter slashfic.
Jack Carter’s distress was considerable, more than enough to distract him enough that he almost missed the turn to his driveway. It was….incredible? Unbelievable? Disgusting? All that and more, he decided as he skidded the SUV to a screeching halt. He’d never felt so…violated in his life, and it had taken Henry fifteen minutes to show him the documented proof of this betrayal.
“SARAH?” he called out as he entered his underground home.
Sheriff Carter! the house replied. I was not expecting you to be in until your usual time of 5:47. Is there a problem?
“Yeah…yeah, you could say that,” Carter said slowly. “SARAH….I know what you’ve been doing.”
I beg your pardon, Sheriff? SARAH answered, putting on a good show of bewildered innocence.
Carter took a deep breath. “Sexysarah69 at hoteureka dot net.”
The house was silent.
“Oh, for God’s sake, SARAH, Henry traced it all back to you! How could you…WHY would you… those stories about me…doing that stuff with STARK of all people!”
There was a long pause. A house can dream came the defensive reply.
First one piece of paper, then another went flying into the air as Yukawa scribbled equations furiously, ceaselessly. At long last he looked up, hand pressed against his face as the answer finally made itself known:
Utsumi rolled her head and sighed. "I can't take you anywhere to eat," she grumbled.
"Ah, Crabbe, Goyle," Draco nodded as his two former flunkies entered the dingy, depressing shambles that currently comprised their ex-boss's world. "I'm pleased you could make it."
"Malfoy," Crabbe cried, "you've failed the Dark Lord! You're a marked man, you can't return to Hogwarts! What are you going to do?"
"Not to worry," Draco sneered. "You see, I have a cunning plan. Thanks to my mother, I still have my old house-elf..." He motioned to the ragged creature trembling nearby, "...and though him, she was able to provide me with new garments. After today, Draco Malfoy shall be no more. No, I shall take on a new guise, cleverly disguise my identity to the Dark Lord, and serve him as...as..." Draco paused, deep in thought. "Hmmm. Need a new name, don't I?"
"It should be something dark and evil," Crabbe suggested.
"Something snakey," Goyle chimed in. "You-Know-Who likes snakes, y'know."
"Yesssssss..." Draco turned abruptly and snapped his fingers; the house-elf sprang instantly into action, helping him into his new clothing. "I have it. I shall be..."
"I shall be known as...THE BLACK ADDER!"
"Master, I think that's taken..." hissed the house-elf.
"Shut up, Baldrick, and stand away from me, your stench is turning my nostril hairs into withered clumps of moldy, stringy things..."
Harry Potter Meets Ah My Goddess:
The assembled class gasped as one the moment their instructor glided into the room. Impossibly tall, dazzilingly curvaceous, brown skin offset by lightning white hair and packaged within a dress that clung for dear life to the body and managed to reveal so much and hint at so much more, she was beyond any possible mortal definition of "beauty".
Her smile mesmerized them all. "Hi. I'm Urd, and I'm here because that bastard Dumbledore somehow managed to outdrink me the other night." She leaned against the desk and regarded them all, her eyes dancing with potential mischief. "So, this is the Potions class, right?"
"Um, no ma'am," Hermione said, her voice oddly aquiver. "That's Professor Snape's class. This is 'Defense Against the Dark Arts'...ma'am."
Urd blinked. "Really? Huh." She chuckled to herself, then leaned against the podium. "So...whattaya want to know about Mom?"
Star Wars CSI:
Grissom looked up from his work to find Catherine standing in the doorway. "I've got some good news and bad news," she said.
He raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"
"The good news," she reported, "is that we got a positive DNA match on Senator Binks' murderer."
"And the bad?"
"The match narrows it down to about three million possible suspects."
My personal all-time favorite:
CSI of the Rings:
"Oh, Smeagol hates the Grissom, he does. The Grissom makes us show him our hands, turns the hands up and down. The Grissom makes us open our mouth and puts the nasssty ssswab inside and wipes it all around, for the 'deee-ennnn-aaiiiy'. Nasssty Grissom hurts poor sweet Smeagol, gollum. He wraps the Deagol in the big black bag and takes him away, Smeagol's friend, and then he takes The Precious, our Precious, for 'eff-i-dense'.
"NASTY LITTLE GRISSOM! WE HATES IT FOREVER!"
Stokes and Sidle strode into the Gate Room and approached the ramp. Grissom was kneeling over the body's lower torso; it lay just in front of the Stargate, and the two colleagues sighed as they recognized the position of the body. "Aw, not another half-and-half," Stokes groaned.
Grissom looked up from his inspection. "You'll go get the rest of the body," he said to them. "The murderer tried to wipe the coordinates from the log, but Warrick was able to retrieve them from the computer memory. Oh, and Nick?"
"Try not to puke on the victim this time."
Gargoyles:"Mother," Angela said dubiously, "I'm pretty sure Elisa told me that on Halloween night, the children wore scary costumes and the adults gave them candy, not the other way around."
The Haibane turned as one to find Kana standing triumphantly in the doorway. Her eyes were wide, almost wild, as she glowered at her nestmates. "HA! You all laughed at me when I pulled it out of the trash bin! You all kept telling me to give up, that I'd never get it working again! Well, take a look NOW!"
Kana reached out behind the wall and retrieved her newest acquisition.
Meet Mirelle Bouquet...young, beautiful, and deadly. And now she must take a journey into her past to uncover the dark truth that lies beneath the surface of the violent world she lives in...her only companion a young woman whose memories have been erased.
"Are you all right?"
Noirbits....hopefully never coming to a manga near you.