January 2004 posts
The
Rescue ... Revisited. -- Rochefort, 01:00:46 01/05/04 Mon
[A suburban community. Kids play outside. A smallish fellow in
his mid-twenties wearing brown chinos, black t-shirt and a sports
coat stands on a porch. He looks sad a moment, then smiles, as
if he has just reassured himself that everything will be o.k.
He knocks. The door opens and there is a woman. She looks him
over a moment.]
WOMAN: You must be Rochefort. CJLÕs internet friend. IÕm
really glad you could come. CJL was so surprised when he ran into
you at the grocery store this week.
ROCHEFORT: Internet friends? [Laughing] Ho ho ho, no. No,... CJL
and I were revolutionaries together.
WOMAN: Revolutionaries?
CJL: [Coming in from the back yard] Rochefort!
ROCHEFORT: [Smiling] CJL.
[They shake hands warmly.]
CJL: Rochefort, this is my wife.
ROCHEFORT: Wonderful to meet you. CJL always used to say such
beautiful things about you.
CJL's WIFE: Ah well, he's said a few interesting things about
you, too.
CJL: Can I get you something to drink, Rochefort?
ROCHEFORT: No, thanks. No other guests have arrived yet?
CJL: Not yet. YouÕre early. I was firing up the barbeque.
Want to come back and give me a hand.
[Rochefort nods, and they move to the back yard.]
ROCHEFORT: Great wife.
CJL: Uh.... thanks. That stuff about the beautiful things I said...
Did you... did you know me when I was married?
ROCHEFORT: No. You told her we were internet friends, eh? She
doesnÕt know about....
CJL: About MOLOJ? [Laughing] You and I can tell her the story
after dinner. SheÕll get a kick out of it. We can even
take turns telling the story. Like old times.
ROCHEFORT: Great! .... Nice back yard.
CJL: uh....thanks.
ROCHEFORT: Listen, can I get right to the point? I have something
very important to talk about.
[CJL looks up from his barbeque... confused.]
ROCHEFORT: MOLOJ needs your help. I need your help.
CJL: [kind of relieved...is that all?] Really, Rochefort. You
havenÕt changed a bit.
[Rochefort laughs, too. Then looks deadly serious]
ROCHEFORT: Things are in the works, CJL. IÕve this new
technology that can tap into.... and I know what you're saying,
I don't know anything about technology, but see I got around that...
God I hardly know where to begin. DonÕt you miss them CJL?
CJL: Who?
ROCHEFORT: Buffy of course! Xander, Willow....
CJL: Sure, but... you know, itÕs like the end of The Rescue.
Always in our hearts and all that... Did you want to watch the
DVDÕs later?
ROCHEFORT: See....see thatÕs exactly it. That always in
our hearts stuff. All that mystical first slayer mumbo jumbo you
wrote, letting them go, setting them free and... I could never
do that. I mean IÕve tried to do it myself, and ... you
know I write Angel: he's lost his mind, standing at the fridge
naked, his hair is falling out in patches, he's eating a stick
of butter. And I wrote Westley into Cats... it was really funny.
But then I try to give it that lesson, you know, like you always
did, and my spiritually uplifting lesson is something like ÒDonÕt
be in musicals that have no plot,Ó or... ÒWatch
out for saturated fats.Ó [Rochefort throws himself down
in a lawn chair.] IÕm all impetus and anger... but no class.
CJL: Well.... weÕve all got our skills.
ROCHEFORT: Right. Right! And thatÕs why I need all of us.
I need the MOLOJ captains reassembled because...
CJL: YouÕre not.... this isnÕt about Joss again,
is it? That basement stuff? HavenÕt we worked this all
out.
ROCHEFORT: No no no itÕs not about Joss. Of course not.
Angel is great this season. God love him. But Joss has no use
for them. And we let them go disapear in the desert.
CJL: Kay, that was a metaphor um... I promise you theyÕre
not off dying of thirst somewhere.
ROCHEFORT: Metaphorical desert metaphorical thirst. I want
you back in MOLOJ.
CJL: It still exists?!
ROCHEFORT: Never hasnÕt.
CJL: Good lord, Rochefort. Listen, old friend. I joined MOLOJ
way back then, and I believed in it. I thought it was doing interesting
work. But it used to have focused issues. It used to mean something.
But in my last years in MOLOJ, I mean you were... face it... MOLOJ
was just running around half cocked declaring revolutions against
everything and anything. Revolution for the sake of revolution.
Do you even remember what the letters stand for now?
ROCHEFORT: Of course. [thinking...then to himself] Margarine...
[Frustrated. Then to CJL] Anyway, thatÕs not the point.
I mean there IS a point. The point of MOLOJ is weÕre going
to bring them back.
CJL: Back?
ROCHEFORT: Back from the desert. Back from oblivion. We can bring
them back to their former glory. But not like when we did it before.
Better. For real.
CJL: Did you even READ the Rescue? DidnÕt you get the point?
The desert was....
ROCHEFORT: Yeah a metaphor, I know. ThatÕs whatÕs
so great about you. ThatÕs why I need you.
CJL: God Rochefort. I can't believe you're still off on this.
ArenÕt you supposed to be educating the public on Romany
culture?
ROCHEFORT: Yeah I was. The Romany were sort of.... not as sexy
in real life.
CJL: I wish I had the time for this. But if you want to collaborative
fanfic... maybe you should get in touch with HonorH or Ponygirl?
ROCHEFORT: Yeah HonorH is doing fashion in Paris... Ponygirl was
there for a while, but after she became an international spy well...
. Anyway, I have people on it. Ponygirl and HonorH are going to
be in, too.
CJL: You have ÒpeopleÓ on it?
ROCHEFORT: I told you... MOLOJ.
CJL: Listen, I have friends coming over. I invited you over cause
it was good to see you again. I thought youÕd be an interesting
dinner guest. But youÕre being a little too interesting.
If youÕre going to ...
ROCHEFORT: Then you donÕt want to do it.
CJL: I have a job and a wife and....
[Rochefort pulls out a syringe with a green glowy liquid in it.]
CJL: What the....
ROCHEFORT: I wish I could afford to give you a choice.
[Rochefort stabs CJL with the syringe. CJL gives a great Òet
tu, you nutty bastard?Ó look and then collapses to the
ground. Rochefort looks down at CJL... and then up.... a helicopter
approaches. He signals to it, and it descends.]
OPENING CREDITS
Replies:
[> Thread condensed above; time to archive this puppy.
-- cjl, 18:28:17 01/09/04 Fri
[> Chapter I -- Spiritually Uplifting -- Rochefort,
01:05:38 01/05/04 Mon
[> [> Alt Title: 2 Years After or The Man in the Kevlar
Mask. Chapter I "Watch Out for Saturated Fats" --
Rochefort, 01:12:57 01/05/04 Mon
[> MOLOJ Returns!! -- dub ;o), 06:53:47 01/05/04
Mon
Woo! Hoo!! I remember it like it was yesterday...
;o)
[> I'm afraid. Very afraid! -- Pony, 07:42:45 01/05/04
Mon
[> [> You should be. You're next. -- Rochefort, 16:13:44
01/05/04 Mon
[> Oooooooookaaaaay........... -- cjl,
09:01:02 01/05/04 Mon
I'm kind of stunned here.
First of all, I never would have believed that I'd ever be a fanfic
character in a story I didn't originate. Feels weird. It's also
a little strange that I find the fanfic version of myself to be
a more interesting and charming person than the real me. If God
ever subcontracts my personal narrative out to a freelance writer,
you're hired.
Wife. Backyard barbecues. Good friends. I know it sounds mundane,
but I like it. Something to shoot for.
ROCHEFORT: Metaphorical desert metaphorical thirst. I want
you back in MOLOJ.
I think I know where you're going with this story. You may have
had to put the needle in the fictional CJL, but this one (can't
call the ATP poster the "real" person either, you know)
is enough of a writer to be intrigued, and I'm willing to go along.
You're still working things through, my old comrade-in-arms, and
if you need me to help you move on or achieve a higher level of
understanding or whatever, I'm with you.
E-mail me. I you need it, I'll contribute a chapter or two. But
this is something very personal to you, and I don't want to muck
it up.
J.
[> [> Re: Oooooooookaaaaay........... -- dub ;o),
11:37:10 01/05/04 Mon
Hmmm. On the wife issue, I was thinkin' it might be that Stephanie,
from the thread below? She seems to...um...like you a lot!
;o)
[> CHAPTER II. Pony Express -- Rochefort, 16:28:50
01/05/04 Mon
This is collaborative. Open to anyone. So feel free to join in.
But if nobody wants to write, I'll just keep going until I've
written the great American ATPoBTVS novel. Even if no one reads
it. (p.s. if you don't read it, I'm going to make you a character
in the story who only eats quiche.)
[As the helicopter rises into the sky, Rochefort looks down to
see the tiny figure of a woman run into CJLÕs backyard,
leaping and waving her arms. CJL doesnÕt see it though
(because he is drugged to unconsciousness) and CJLÕs backyard
slowly disapears from view.]
HELICOPTER PILOT: Paris, sir?
ROCHEFORT: Yes. Fly this helicopter over the Atlantic ocean to
Paris. And fly it low over the water.... maybe we can see a dolphin,
hey?
HELICOPTER PILOT: Sir, weÕve had word that our team has
located Ponygirl. Prague, sir.
ROCHEFORT: Excellent.
[Cut to: a dark office building, somewhere in Prague. There are
gun shots. A slender figure dressed all in black leaps across
the frame. The frame is then riddled with gun fire. The camara
follows her down a hallway. She ducks into a drinking fountain
aclove. It is Ponygirl, though her hair is dyed orange so itÕs
hard to tell. She breathes deep and is ready to run again when
there is suddenly gun fire from the opposite end of the hallway.
There are shouts and cries on both sides.]
PONYGIRL: [looking out briefly] Those arenÕt Al-Queda fighters.
[She looks again.] But theyÕre.... not Americans either.
[She ducks back into the aclove as the two sides continue to exchange
fire across the hallway. She gets a sip of water from the drinking
fountain.] Anyway, IÕll take whatever help I can get. All
thatÕs important is that I get this microfilm to the President
of Prague.
[An Al-Queda fighter and one of the mysterious troops engage in
hand to hand combat in front of Ponygirl. They donÕt notice
her, despite her orange hair and great figure, and she slips by
them and leaps into a mail shoot.]
[Cut to: a helicopter landing strip on the roof of a chateau in
France. Rochefort exits the helicopter and signals to some men.]
DIRK: ThereÕs a tiny little motor scooter waiting for you
downstairs.
ROCHEFORT: What does it want?
DIRK: Um. It's for you to scoot around town, sir. What should
we do with the prisoner?
ROCHEFORT: HeÕs not a prisoner. HeÕs CJL. HeÕs
an old MOLOJ comrade who just needed a little extra convincing.
But heÕll come around. [Checks his watch] Huh. HeÕs
been out for a while.... would you make sure to get him inside
and get him some medical attention just in case. Keep him here.
IÕll be back shortly from my visit with HonorH.
[Suddenly a black clad MOLOJ agent is flung from the helicopter.
There is the sound of more fighting. Then the helicopter begins
to lift off the ground. Another MOLOJ agent falls out. Dirk draws
his gun and begins to fire.]
ROCHEFORT: Hold your fire! [Rochefort watches the helicopter with
regret].... HeÕs gone. I donÕt understand why heÕs
not with me.... but perhaps we all have our own density. We havenÕt
seen the last of him.
AGENT #1: So what now?
ROCHEFORT: The plan doesnÕt change. We just have to move
faster. IÕm off to see HonorH. In the meantime....find
me some kind of transportation to Prague. [Begins to leave, then
pauses with another thought] Something bigger than a motorscooter
if you can. But if you can't... that's o.k.
DIRK: To each according to his need, comrade.
ROCHEFORT: Uh huh. On second thought... have you ever met a fashion
diva, Dirk? Why don't you come along.
[> [> MOLOJ is back! A mystery will be solved (I hope)..
-- jane (ex hippy chick with a horse), 17:47:05 01/05/04 Mon
I wondered what happened to all you folks! Visions of wanderers
in the desert abounded,never clarified,leaving me believing it
was all a mirage.. and me running after it crying "Wait for
me - I've almost got this darn saddle on my horse! Just let me
get my peace symbol adjusted, cause
it keeps whacking me in the head.."
I have little writing talent, but I'm a very good reader, if you
have need of one.
[> [> Re: CHAPTER II.a - An Interlude in the Corridors
of Power -- Pony, 17:50:20 01/05/04 Mon
Rochefort, you had me at "slender figure." I'll keep
this brief since I'm not sure where you're going with this, and
The O.C. is on in twenty minutes.
[The Presidential Palace, Prague. Ponygirl enters through a sewer
grate, climbs up a storm drain, unlocks a secret door, takes a
hidden staircase, stumbles into a tour group in the main lobby,
backtracks and finally steps out from behind a velvet curtain
into a plush and imposing office. She walks up to a heavy desk,
the high-backed chair behind it is partially turned away, concealing
the figure in it.]
Ponygirl: Mr. President? I have your mircofilm.
[The figure in the chair doesn't move, but a hand can be seen
stroking a white cat.]
The President of Prague: Excellent. Do you ever wonder why no
one uses mircofiche anymore? It's such an amusing word to say.
Rhymes with quiche.
Ponygirl: Yes, sir but I imagine there were misspellings. Sir,
we may have a problem. A new player.
The President: Interesting. Perhaps it's related to this telex
I received a few moments ago.
[Ponygirl picks up a piece of paper from the desk.]
Ponygirl: This isn't a telex, it's Post-It note with a scribbled
message on it. What's a telex anyway?
The President: Telex sounds cooler, more international espionage--
just read it.
Ponygirl: Cjl is missing? Missing missing, not just can't make
a decision at the video store for two hours missing? What does
this mean?
[The chair swings around to reveal the President of Prague, the
man some might call - Rob]
Rob/President: It means the end game has begun.
[There's a beat as this all sinks in]
Ponygirl: You don't have a clue what all this means do you?
Rob: Not really, but can you take the cat? I've got presidential
stuff to do and Mr. Gato Magnifico needs his kibble.
[> [> [> Oh stop, stop! -- dub ;o), 18:35:42
01/05/04 Mon
I can't breath!! MWA-ha-ha-ha-ha!!
;o)
[> [> [> [> Re: No, no! Don't stop! Keep going!
-- punkinpuss, 19:41:58 01/05/04 Mon
Rochefort and ponygirl, don't stop! And don't make us quiche-eaters
either!
[> [> [> No comment. Still unconscious. -- cjl,
19:05:36 01/05/04 Mon
[> [> [> [> cjl -- Rochefort, 20:27:55 01/05/04
Mon
Thanks for your support by the way. I'm glad I painted you well.
You're not flying back home in your helicopter by the way... you
have other ideas.
[> [> [> [> [> Oh, wait--that was me commandeering
the helicopter? -- cjl, 21:13:12 01/05/04 Mon
[Hand slaps forehead] Thwack! Of course it was.
Wow. Go me. I didn't even know I could fly a helicopter.
"Other purposes." Yes. (Rubs hands together evilly...)
[> [> [> [> [> [> Sorry bout that. It definitely
could have been you getting re-re-kidnapped. Wasn't clear
-- Rochefort, 21:22:21 01/05/04 Mon
[> [> [> [> [> [> even just reading the subject
lines is lol-worthy! (if a bit confusing) -- anom, 22:28:04
01/05/04 Mon
Not that I'm reading just the subject lines--no quiche-eater I!
Easy on the thwacking there, cjl--you're already stunned. Or drugged...the
posts can be a little confusing too.
[> [> [> [> [> [> [> heh heh. You're right.
I just read them. Funny little conversation -- Rochefort,
23:28:05 01/05/04 Mon
[> [> [> Ponygirl!!! -- Rochefort, 20:26:10
01/05/04 Mon
You're brilliant. Thanks for writing. I laughed like crazy. I
was running it around in my brain how I was going to get Rob in
this story. He's perfect as the President of Prague. Nicely done!
Big hugs! Mwah!
[> Hehehe, very nice, kinda makes me wish I'd joined this
board earlier... -- angel's nibblet, 19:39:33 01/05/04
Mon
All it needs now is a cameo of me riding in on my unicorn- yay!
;-)
Or just the machine that goes BING!
[> [> angel's nibblet and former hippie girl....
-- Rochefort, 20:24:55 01/05/04 Mon
You two should totally be in the story. Give us some character
traits to use for you. The unicorn is a good start.
[> [> [> charcter traits...? -- angel's nibblet,
20:43:42 01/05/04 Mon
hmmmmm.......
nibblet is prone to:
*memory lapses
*running into things
*bursting out in show tunes
*jealous of anyone touching her unicorn, as people always seem
to be running off with it
*going barefoot, hobbit/kiwi styles
*having domestics with her fiancee roche, but being otherwise
cheerful
any more?
think a female, slightly more intelligent pippin and you'll be
right ;-)
[> [> [> [> Hmmmm.... sounds good. Wait. Are you
MY fiance? -- Rochefort, 21:12:12 01/05/04 Mon
[> [> [> [> [> Yet *another* fiancee?!?! How
many of them are there?!? -- LittleBit [who got out when she
could], 21:17:13 01/05/04 Mon
[> [> [> [> [> [> How long did you expect
me to stay broken hearted over YOU!? -- Rochefort, 21:20:53
01/05/04 Mon
Don't worry. I'll make it all up to you with your part in the
story. You're gonna love it. :P
Rochefort
[> [> [> [> [> [> [> Well, aren't you
sweet? -- LittleBit [fluttering eyelashes], 00:36:05 01/06/04
Tue
And to answer your question... ten minutes!
[> [> [> [> Re: charcter traits...? -- jane
(ex hippy chick with a horse), 19:22:42 01/06/04 Tue
Let me see now..ah, yes..
-good at organizing everyone but myself.
-procrastination is my middle name; I prefer to think of it as
going with the flow.
-totally in love with horses, especially a black and white paint
named Midnight. He believes he's a Unicorn, cause he heard someone
call him a eunuch. Ready to ride out, Nibblet?
-long for adventure; too lazy to go looking for it.
-very handy in a crisis, especially if there's blood.(There's
always blood). Can bandage up the grossest of wounds without barfing.
-a rebel's heart beats behind this middle aged woman's face. (Well,
actually behind my ribcage, but you know what I mean.)
-wants to be Eowyn,but looks more like Sam,only taller,with better
hair, and female.
[> [> [> [> [> Am set and ready to be the cavalry!
-- angel's nibblet, 22:03:54 01/06/04 Tue
[> [> [> [> [> Damn, I wish I'd called Eowyn
now *grumble* -- angel's nibblet, 00:49:14 01/09/04 Fri
[> [> CHAPTER 3 -- Troubling Pom-Poms -- Rochefort,
21:19:10 01/05/04 Mon
[Offices of the President of Prague. Ponygirl and President Rob
stand looking over his desk at the notice about the disapearance
of CJL.]
PONYGIRL: Who notified you about this?
ROB: Secret operative. Even I donÕt know who. Prague is
a mysterious place. Plus, Kafka used to live here. Did you know
that?
PONYGIRL: We should maybe find out who sent it. Perhaps whoever
is responsible for the kidnapping wanted to make sure that you
knew. But.... why you?
ROB: Well I am the President of Prague. Yay me!
PONYGIRL: (rolling her eyes.) All right. Listen, Rob, IÕm
going incommunicado with the United Nations. They can do without
me for awhile. This is my next mission.
ROB: If I order you to do it, it can be an offical mission of
state.
PONYGIRL: Prague isnÕt a state. ItÕs a city.
ROB: Shhhhh, youÕre upsetting Miss Gato Fantastico.
PONYGIRL: Rob, try to stay focused for a second. I donÕt
like the feel of this. WeÕve got to find CJL.
[CJL suddenly stumbles into the office, looking the worse for
wear.]
CJL: Ponygirl. I found you.
PONYGIRL: How? This isnÕt one of those smelling things,
is it? Cause...ew.
CJL: I overheard you were in Prague. I stole a helicopter and
flew here. And Prague isnÕt that big.
ROB: I resent that.
CJL: Rob? What are you....
ROB: IÕm President of Prague. Small, pff. IÕm going
to make us ÒEastern EuropeÕs Broadway!Ó
CJL: Ponygirl, thereÕs trouble. You both remember The Rescue?
PONYGIRL: [smiling fondly] Of course. ThatÕs what got me
into the spy business in the first place. Boy was that all a bunch
of hooey. Fun though.
CJL: Well MOLOJ is at it again. Apparantly Rochefort never disbanded
it.
PONYGIRL: HeÕs trying to free the scoobies from JossÕs
basement again?
CJL: I didnÕt quite understand all of it, but from what
I get, heÕs trying to bring Buffy and the Scoobies BACK.
He says itÕs ÒFor real.Ó Something about
a machine.
PONYGIRL: Back? Like for a movie or something?
CJL: One guess I have? He wants to make them... corporal.
PONYGIRL: Good god.
ROB: Cool. Can he make Kennedy corporal, too? Cause IÕve
seen her corporal in person and....
PONYGIRL: Can he do it?
CJL: I donÕt know. But IÕm more worried about the
damage heÕll do trying. He said he needed my help. Said
he couldnÕt do it without me. And when I refused, he drugged
me and took me to Europe in a helicopter.
ROB: Man.... I knew the guy had weird ideas about musicals....
but I didnÕt know he was THAT far off the deep end.
CJL: He wants to reassemble the whole MOLOJ team. Which means
you Ponygirl. And maybe you, Rob. HeÕs already got operatives
here.
PONYGIRL: Oh THATÕS who those guys were. They were fighting
Al-Queda.
CJL: They were?
PONYGIRL: Yeah and I had to deal with a few of them in an alley
on the way here. Short work.
CJL: HeÕll keep trying. I donÕt know how many resources
MOLOJ has now, but I know Rochefort plans to come to Prague himself
to find you.
ROB: CJL, whatÕs so bad about trying to bring back the
Scoobies? I miss them. I know MOLOJ doesnÕt play by the
rules, but they did some good back in the day. And look.... fighting
Al-Queda.
CJL: Rob, if Tara was here sheÕd tell you the same thing.
It goes against the natural order. I donÕt know how he
plans to do this, but it isnÕt right. I know that in my
gut.
ROB: You know.... Rochefort troubles me. Even his ideas on Little
Shop of Horrors trouble me. But heÕs not evil. Troubling
though. Verrry verrry troubling.
CJL: Maybe he wasnÕt evil. Maybe he is now. I donÕt
know. I donÕt know how he plans to do this. But what if
he tampers with the imaginations of millions of millions of people.
We ensured in The Rescue that the Scoobies would stay free and
sacrosanct.... but now?
ROB: YouÕre defending the imagination of the masses?
PONYGIRL: I think thatÕs sexy.
CJL: Um.... married now.
PONYGIRL: Like spies care about that sort of thing.
CJL: (visibly effected, but recovers.) Are you two with me? Because
I get the feeling weÕre either WITH MOLOJ or against them
in this. I donÕt think heÕs going to leave us alone.
Like, I think Rob has about a half a day to read this before he
ends up eating quiche.
ROB: You know.... I am kind of getting hungry.
[Rob pets his cat, eyes suddenly alight. He goes to his closet
and presses a hidden panel. It slides back revealing a show case....inside....
his old Pom-Poms.]
ROB: IÕm in. [He gives the pom-poms an anticipatory shake.]
PONYGIRL: So whatÕs RochefortÕs next move?
CJL: HeÕs in Paris. Trying to recruit HonorH.
PONYGIRL: Are you kidding? They couldnÕt stand to be in
the same ROOM during the rescue. HonorH HATES Rochefort. SheÕll
never help him. We donÕt have to worry about HonorH.
CJL: We can only hope youÕre right.
ROB: Before we do anything else, thereÕs the cutest little
cafe down the street, guys wanna stop there for some lunch?
[> [> [> Now I really *am* troubled. You have way
too much time on your hands. ;o) -- Rob, the President of
Pragie, 11:22:54 01/06/04 Tue
Yay me!
LOL!
Rob
[> [> [> [> *glerp* Prague I mean, not Pragie
-- Rob, 11:23:58 01/06/04 Tue
[> [> [> [> [> Where have you gone, Vaclev Havel?
-- cjl, 11:44:55 01/06/04 Tue
I remember touring the Presidential Palace in October 2002, proud
to be visiting the Czech Republic during the last days in the
presidential tenure of one of the giants in the fight for human
dignity and freedom, Vaclev Havel.
After spraining my neck gazing up at the wonders of St. Vitus'
Cathedral and wandering into the tourist trap that was Franz Kafka's
childhood home, I felt secure that the Czechs would go forward
in the post-Havel era as a leader in Central European culture
and politics.
And now look what they've done.
Rob, for crying out loud? ROB? Is he even a citizen? And even
if he is a good president, why isn't he running the rest of the
country? Why just Prague? (I tell you, there's evil afoot here...)
[> [> [> [> [> [> Re: Where have you gone,
Vaclev Havel? -- Arethusa, 12:19:22 01/06/04 Tue
Rob, for crying out loud? ROB? Is he even a citizen? And even
if he is a good president, why isn't he running the rest of the
country? Why just Prague? (I tell you, there's evil afoot here...)
Because he thought they said "fugue," not "Prague",
and always wanted to be president of a fugue state?
[> [> [> [> [> [> [> Oh lordy!!! --
LittleBit [laughing], 15:15:58 01/06/04 Tue
My sides hurt!!
[> [> [> [> [> [> Where have you gone, Mr.
President? -- Ann, 17:00:05 01/06/04 Tue
And here's to you, Mr. President
Joss loves you more than you will know (Wo, wo, wo)
MOLOJ bless you please, Mr. President
Mutant Enemy holds a place for those who annotate
(Hey, hey, hey...hey, hey, hey)
We'd like to know a little bit about you for our files
We'd like to help you learn to help yourself
Look around you, all you see are sympathetic eyes
Cheer around the board since you are at home
And here's to you, Mr. President
Joss loves you more than you will know (Wo, wo, wo)
MOLOJ bless you please, Mr. President
Prague holds a place for those who play
(Hey, hey, hey...hey, hey, hey)
Hide it in a hiding place where no one ever goes
Put it in your helicopter with your pom-poms
It's a little secret, just the Presidents' affair
Most of all, you've got to hide it from cjl.
Coo, coo, ca-choo, Mr. President
Joss loves you more than you will know (Wo, wo, wo)
MOLOJ bless you please, Mr. President
Heaven holds a place for those who play
(Hey, hey, hey...hey, hey, hey)
Sitting around the keyboard on a Sunday afternoon
Going to the chat debate
Laugh about it, shout about it
When you've got to choose
Ev'ry way you look at it, you certainly never snooze.
Where have you gone, Masquerade
A board turns its lonely eyes to you (Woo, woo, woo)
What's that you say, Mr. President
Storytelling' Rochefort has left and gone to write.
(Hey, hey, hey...hey, hey, hey)
Apologies to S&G. This just popped into my head,
[> [> [> [> [> [> [> Good lord. How often
do you get a song written about you Rob? -- Rochefort, 17:27:02
01/06/04 Tue
I have disapeared! I hate it. I don't want to write applications
and personal statements and master's essays. I want to finish
this bloody story.
[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> If it takes
forever... -- dub ;o), 17:59:43 01/06/04 Tue
We will wait for you
For a thousand winters
We will wait for you
'Til you're here, and writing
'Til we're reading it
'Til the story's done
You'll be the one
(with apologies for the fact that probably no one but me remembers
the tune...)
;o)
[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> That
is soooo sweet. See? Now I have new inspiration to get my work
done. -- Rochefort, 18:15:31 01/06/04 Tue
[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> Not true!
-- Vickie, 09:18:29 01/07/04 Wed
Now I have THAT melody in my head. Good thing
it's a pleasant one. And the filk lyrics scan!
Nice job, dub!
[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> Thanks!
-- ;o), 18:10:15 01/07/04 Wed
[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> I am working
on the rest of you too!! Mahawahahaha -- Ann, 18:02:00
01/06/04 Tue
[> [> [> [> [> [> [> S&G, eat your
hearts out. Ann is our board songwriter supreme! -- jane,
19:33:16 01/06/04 Tue
[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> Re: S&G,
eat your hearts out. Ann is our board songwriter supreme!
-- No name, 19:50:01 01/06/04 Tue
Thanks. You can be my new best friend. And my kids are in bed
so I can "write" this stuff. Boy this board is motivating.
I do bow down before Rochefort and Ponygirl and cjl though. This
is amazing stuff.
[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> For Above
-- Ann, there is no message checking, it posted anyway Beware!,
19:57:32 01/06/04 Tue
[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> You can
never have too many friends. Keep Writing, please! -- jane,
20:00:12 01/06/04 Tue
[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> No bowing.
If you bow, I will forget that I'm supposed to be writing grad
school aps -- Rochefort, 23:53:15 01/06/04 Tue
[> [> [> [> This is what I do when I don't have
ENOUGH time.... -- Rochefort, 11:52:52 01/06/04 Tue
My master's essay was due months ago and my applications for ph.d.
programs are due in two days. So I sit down at the computer to
write. To write to save my life, my career, my livilihood....
and what comes out is Buffy stories. :(
Rochefort
[> [> [> [> [> What?! For God's sake, Rochefort,
finish your Master's essay! -- cjl, 12:01:34 01/06/04 Tue
FIRST RULE OF ATPo: RL crises trump the Board. No exceptions.
(Right, Masq?) Finish the essay, apply for your PhD programs,
then get back to us.
We can wait. Buffy and the others can wait. (They're literally
not getting any older.)
[> [> [> [> [> [> Maybe this is his dissertation
-- Pony, 13:30:34 01/06/04 Tue
Meta-narrative in the post-communist state? Group dynamics in
collaborative art? Post-traumatic fan disorder: seizing the narrative
or willful delusion - a psychosis reconsidered?
[> [> [> [> [> [> [> Pongirl, it is absolutely
scary how close to being my dissertation those titles are.
-- Rochefort, 14:12:00 01/06/04 Tue
I mean, honestly. That whole thing put together pretty much IS
my dissertation. I'm a post-marxist and a writing instructor who
teaches college students put together with middle school students
to collaboratively write plays for their school variety show.
And I teach a class for senior citizens on radio drama and we
collaboratively write, produce and broadcast. All that put together
is my dissertation. As for the post-trauma stuff... I don't write
it... I just HAVE it.
Rochefort
[> [> [> [> [> [> Thankyou. I know. There
is something seriously wrong with me. -- Rochefort, 14:13:29
01/06/04 Tue
[> [> [> [> [> [> agree, & a suggestion
-- anom, 08:57:29 01/07/04 Wed
Just to be clear, Roche, what I agree with is "finish your
essay," not that there's something seriously wrong with you.
You just have a severe case of creative procrastination, something
I'm all too familiar with (except my procrastination has more
to do with reading other people's creative efforts here!).
What may help is using the fanfic writing as an incentive to do
your essay writing. Set yourself a rule that you have to finish
x pages of the essay before you write another chapter of
the fanfic. If that's the requirement, you're more likely to get
the essay written.
It's worked for me. For example, in an earlier freelance period,
I was trying to arrange to get together with somebody while I
was working on a freelance job. I only let myself call him again
after I'd done another hour of work. (For the younger readers
out there who are wondering why I say "again," this
was in the long-ago time before answering machines, let alone
cell phones, when you actually had to call someone later if you
didn't reach them the 1st time...OK, feeling every one of those
50 years now!) By the time I reached him, I'd gotten a lot of
work done. Maybe something like that could work for you. Besides,
you gotta do something while you wait for the other writers to
post their chapters!
[> [> [> [> [> [> [> It's true. But I
have all these ideeeaaaas. -- Rochefort, 10:18:10 01/07/04
Wed
[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> ...which will
wait till you've finished that next batch of pages! now write
'em! -- anom, 22:09:22 01/07/04 Wed
And then write the next hilarious installment of "The
Rescue...Revisited!" Don't worry, the ideeeeaaaas will still
be there by then!
[> [> [> Still a big fan of the cjl/ponygirl 'ship!
-- d'Herblay, 21:24:51 01/06/04 Tue
[> [> [> [> hmmmmmmm...... -- Rochefort, 22:29:47
01/06/04 Tue
[> [> [> [> Ours is a forbidden and largely non-existent
love -- Pony, 06:54:00 01/07/04 Wed
[> [> [> [> [> "Largely" non-existent?
-- cjl, 07:11:39 01/07/04 Wed
Did I miss something?
[> [> [> [> [> [> ;) -- Pony, 08:16:14
01/07/04 Wed
[> [> for those who joined us after the original "rescue"
story... -- anom, 00:05:35 01/08/04 Thu
...here's the link! Enjoy!
The
Rescue
And this one for the backstory.
But be careful...I got caught up rereading it, which is why I'm
posting this so late!
[> [> [> Thanks for the link, anom... -- Jane,
02:15:50 01/08/04 Thu
I too got caught up in it, and am way too tired now! Nice refresher
course. Now that the backstory and original rescue is firmly in
my mind, I will enjoy the ride in this one. This is so much fun!!
All you people are brilliant. I feel quite honoured to be included
in such fine company. Come on, Midnight, your unicorn horn needs
attaching. MOLOJ needs us!
[> [> [> Actually... I didn't remember the back story
either. Sort of like "The Hobbit" -- Rochefort,
13:01:28 01/08/04 Thu
[> Interlude: Five Months Earlier -- cjl, 00:32:30
01/06/04 Tue
[Scene: Brooklyn, New York. Sixty days after The Rescue. Summertime,
daytime. CJL is sitting on a bench overlooking the Great Lawn
in Prospect Park. A few scattered groups of weekend athletes are
playing volleyball or frisbee on the wide open grasslands. In
the distance, CJL can see Little League teams practicing on the
baseball diamond. The smell of barbecued chicken drifts over from
the picnic areas. It's all very comforting, a world away from
the world outside. ROCHEFORT approaches, lugging a large cloth
carry-on bag, and sits down next to him.]
CJL: What took you so long?
ROCHEFORT: Couldn't lock your stupid door.
CJL: The copies don't work that well. I could lend you my keys
if you want.
ROCHEFORT: Nah. That's OK. Won't be needing 'em much longer. Thanks
for letting me crash for awhile.
CJL: No problem. You leaving?
ROCHEFORT: Yeah, might as well. I've seen all the sights, did
all the tourist traps.
CJL: You know, I could show you parts of New York that nobody
ever--
ROCHEFORT: I think it's time for me to go.
CJL (a bit confused): OK.
[CJL leans back against the bench; long silence.]
ROCHEFORT: It's nice out here.
CJL: I lucked out. Half a block away from my apartment. Every
time I'm stressed out I can walk up to the park, sit down on this
bench and the outside world just disappears.
ROCHEFORT: Escaping. [Pause.] We do a lot of that, don't we?
CJL: Excuse me?
ROCHEFORT: I mean, as sci-fi/fantasy geeks. Gotta find our own
little worlds, our own comfortable corner of the universe.
CJL: Well...yeah. That's why we're all Buffy fans, right? The
world is full of death and pain and incomprehensible forces beyond
our control, and Joss gives us this beautiful metaphorical structure
that actually makes sense out of the whole mess. We escape inside
the Buffyverse, and Joss tells us our own stories in a way that
puts things in perspective when we come out.
ROCHEFORT: I don't want to escape anymore.
CJL (the words not registering): You "don't want to escape
anymore"?
ROCHEFORT: I don't want to retreat inside the fantasy anymore.
It's not good enough. Every time I come back out into the real
world, it's just as crappy as when I went in. I feel like I'm
wasting my time.
CJL: But that's the whole point of great fantasy. You take the
lessons you learn from art and you apply it to life. The writer
does his part and you've gotta do the rest.
ROCHEFORT (with a dismissive wave of the hand): Yeah, yeah, Joseph
Campbell, hero's journey, blah blah blah.
[Pause.]
CJL: Rochefort--why did you come to New York?
ROCHEFORT: The usual. Visiting friends. Broadway shows. The Yankees.
Was it too much of a problem putting me up?
CJL: No. It was great to see you. But... [CJL tries to find the
words] I saw your notebook. [Before ROCHEFORT can react] It was
an accident, I promise. But I know the people on that list. They're
physics professors from NYU and Columbia University. Some of them
wrote articles on quantum theory for Scientific American.
ROCHEFORT (trying to remain cool): So?
CJL: So you dropped in to have a nice, casual conversation with
some of the greatest minds of the modern age about a topic you
barely understand?
ROCHEFORT: Pretty much.
CJL: You wanna tell me what's going on?
ROCHEFORT: No.
[CJL is stunned by the bluntness of the response, and has to regroup
before he can speak again.]
CJL: Whatever happened to "all for one, and one for all"?
ROCHEFORT: I'm not ready. It's just an idea right now, it's--you
wouldn't understand.
CJL: I could try.
ROCHEFORT: You'd never go there.
CJL: "I'd never g--" What the hell are you talking about?
[ROCHEFORT gets up, and flips CJL his house keys.]
ROCHEFORT: Thanks for everything. You're a good friend. A lousy
racketball player, but a good friend. I mean it.
CJL: Look--if you ever need any help, I'm here, OK?
ROCHEFORT (smiles): I appreciate it. [Starts to walk away] Don't
be surprised if I take you up on that offer...
[> [> g.d. you, cjl. -- Rochefort, 01:43:23 01/06/04
Tue
You did it again. It's like I puke on paper, and you point out
the Van Goh swirls and then touch them up and I'm like... yeah
uh.... that's what I was trying to do. Just like I said in chapter
one.
Truly, that was gorgeous in many ways. You caught most of my inspiration
and impetus and gave "me" back to me so I could understand
myself. (how's THAT for a compliment) That fantasy/reality frustration
was exactly what I was trying to write about. But I'm still surprised
that I got that across. Or I didn't get it across, but we just
happened to see the same possibility. You even caught one of the
tragic flaws I was trying to paint in "Rochefort" (borrowed,
as you noticed, from three musketeers) individualism and isolation
leading to badness in contrast to the collaboration, trust, and
shared purpose that made the original "Rescue" a success.
I was flailing about trying to paint that. And you anticipated
things I was planning for later. Plus, I sound like me and you
don't even know me. Plus, the conversation as a conversation between
two male friends is real and... dare I say in this homophobic
world... touching.
I tollllllllld you the story needed you. Thanks.
Rochefort
[> [> This is all just wonderful but ya'll are worrying
me. -- Arethusa, 08:45:20 01/06/04 Tue
Rochefort, honey, think about what you're doing! The Shipper Wars
have have started to dribble to a close at last; the Snarkists
and Redemptionists are working their weary way home, crossing
mountains and rivers to return to their impatient families, and
you want to start the war all over again by resurecting the characters
who have gone to their reward? Plus, you're going to have to get
past Joss, who has finally caught up on his sleep and doesn't
want to shoulder the burden of two shows and a movie. Think
of his wife and baby! Think of the Firefly fans, who take great
pride in shooting their enemies with their eyes closed while cursing
in Mandarin!
[> [> [> This is my resolved face. You've seen it
before....you know what it means.... -- Rochefort, 11:56:03
01/06/04 Tue
[> [> [> (Sigh of acceptance.) Godspeed. May the Farce
be with you. -- Arethusa, 12:14:10 01/06/04 Tue
[> [> [> [> CJL!!!! WRITE MY PERSONAL STATEMENT!
(please?) -- Rochefort, 23:55:50 01/06/04 Tue
It's 3 in the morning for the second night in a row. Just throw
something together about my reason for being and my reason for
getting a Ph.D. in Composition and Rhetoric. I promise never to
drug you again. You'll do it so well! I will sound very inspiring,
I know.
[> [> [> [> 3 in the morning, this is what I have
so far: -- Rochefort, 00:10:22 01/07/04 Wed
I was born Rochefort A. Jenkins on the Fourth of July and don't
think there weren't jokes about THAT my whole life mister cause
there were. Who's our little patriot, they'd say.
I fight with weapons. I know studying English is evil...but darn
its sinister charm. I would be a good student. I think we should
be listening to the other Rochefort. He's very smart.
Thank you for your consideration,
Rochefort
[> [> [> [> [> Can't write it, but I could edit
it. You have my e-mail address above. -- cjl, 07:32:57
01/07/04 Wed
[> [> [> [> [> [> I appreciate that. So far
I still don't have anything.... tick....tick...tick... --
Rochefort, 18:11:46 01/07/04 Wed
[> [> Postinterlude: Two Months Later, or Three Months
Earlier, Depending On Your Point Of View -- d'Herblay, 02:03:25
01/07/04 Wed
[Scene: an oak-panelled office. The walls are lined with bookshelves;
the sun streams through the window illuminating a terrarium. ROCHEFORT
lies on a couch, his fingers steepled. Across from him sits DARBY,
frowning, making notes on a steno pad.]
ROCHEFORT: It's not so much that I can't tell the difference between
reality and fiction, doc. I mean, I know that this is real and
that all that MOLOJ stuff was just words, but there's just this
feeling I have, like have you ever walked into a bathroom and
reached over your head for the light cord? Only, there isn't a
light cord, the light works by a switch always has, you know that.
But somehow you feel there should be a cord. It's more
real somehow. It's like that.
DARBY: Mmmm. So Buffy is somehow more real to you than reality?
ROCHEFORT: No, it's not Buffy, not really. This isn't what you
called "Drizzt's Syndrome." It's MOLOJ itself. It's
like when I'm mobilizing MOLOJ, I'm building something bigger
than myself. But when I write my thesis . . .
DARBY: You write your thesis alone, right? But your fantasies
depend on the participation of others.
ROCHEFORT: Yeah. When cjl -- you know cjl, right? He said that
you helped him a lot when he couldn't get over Anya's death --
when cjl, and ponygirl, and HonorH join in, we're doing something
more.
DARBY: So it's not really the fantasy, so much as the fantasy,
the meta-fantasy if you will, of having others participate in,
expand on, and validate your fantasies that really matters.
ROCHEFORT: Yeah . . .
DARBY: It's sort of a folie a quartre. But you're anxious
that it's all falling apart.
ROCHEFORT: Well, I'm sure ponygirl would be game, but HonorH never
liked me to begin with, and she's got a nasty streak in her. Something
almost demonic just comes out when she's near me. And cjl . .
. I just can't tell. I don't know if he really wants to join in.
There's this part of him that's into it, and then it almost seems
that part of him is just concerned. I think he thinks I'm
a little crazy. Am I crazy, doc? Is this all just some mad crusade?
DARBY: (Refers to his notes.) This is not your first crusade.
Tell me about Marti Noxon.
ROCHEFORT: I hated her. I thought she was out to ruin Buffy.
DARBY: And that changed. What was it that changed that?
ROCHEFORT: (Embarassed.) Ummm, it was when the CD of "Once
More, With Feeling" came out.
DARBY: Yes?
ROCHEFORT: That line she sang, "I'm not wearing underwear"
. . .
DARBY: And have you always been fascinated by women without underwear?
ROCHEFORT: Umm, yeah. I mean, no more than most guys.
DARBY: Tell me about your mother.
ROCHEFORT: My mother? What's my mother got to do with this?
DARBY: It's a simple request.
ROCHEFORT: I don't see how my mother comes into any of this!
DARBY: (Jots down something on his notepad.) I'm skeptical that
you're truly committed to your therapy.
ROCHEFORT: I don't know what would give you that impression!
DARBY: Well, for one thing, I think someone in your position who
really wanted to get better would seek qualified help, and I'm
not a psychologist. I'm a herpetologist.
ROCHEFORT: (Befuddled.) I can assure you, Doctor, that that is
not one of my problems . . .
DARBY: I'm going to recommend that you check yourself into our
clinic, just for observation. (He reaches to his intercom and
presses a button.)
ROCHEFORT: Is that really necessary? I've got rehearsal tonight,
and Batboy just doesn't persecute himself.
(TWO BURLY ORDERLIES enter.)
DARBY: I think you'll find it very therapeutic.
(The two orderlies grab Rochefort, who starts to scream and struggle.)
ROCHEFORT: You bastard! I trusted you!
DARBY: Would you like a hamster? Most of my patients like a hamster.
It makes the medicine go down smoother.
(One of the orderlies injects Rochefort with a hypodermic needle
filled with a GLOWING GREEN LIQUID. Rochefort's struggles begin
to lose intensity.)
DARBY: We'll make sure that you have a comfortable room, one as
far away from that Boke fellow as possible.
(As Rochefort's body goes limp, the two orderlies drag him from
the office. Darby picks up the telephone. He dials -- a lot of
numbers, maybe an international call? After a moment, he begins
to speak.)
DARBY: He's been secured. . . . You know, he believes it's all
a fantasy. . . . Oh, he's really quite insane. He's just not delusional.
. . . Do you know he sincerely wants to bring them back? . . .
No, of course we can't let that happen, not if it's going to be
more of those awful speeches. . . . Muddled characterization.
. . . Yeah, yeah, too much screen time for him, too. .
. . But, yes, his technology does work. . . . Yes. . . . Yes.
. . . Yes, we can use it to stop Joss. . . . We can go back. .
. . We can go back and prevent "Lies My Parents Told Me."
(Fade to Black.)
[> [> [> Oh my lord. -- Rochefort, 10:28:51
01/07/04 Wed
I went to bed at 5'oclock in the morning two nights in a row.
My only meal today so far is a stale candy cane. Your chapter
has induced in me a fit of hysterical laughing followed by paranoia
and confusion....then helplesslness and rocking.
:) Best high I've had in some time.
[> [> [> ::Applauds:: Bravissimo! At last, the truth
is told. -- Random, 12:30:05 01/07/04 Wed
[> [> [> [> Chapter 4 -- A Fellowship of Misfits
-- Rochefort, 12:58:10 01/07/04 Wed
O.k., I had to take a break and write this. My apologies to the
eaters of fashion for my ignorance and mostly to our fine ATPoBTVS
minstrel, Ann. If I was capable of writing betters songs I would
have.
[A very large hand is wrapped around RochefortÕs neck,
and he is slammed into a wall.]
ROCHEFORT: [Gasp] [Gag]
O.S. VOICE OF HIS ATTACKER: GRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRR!!!!!
[RochefortÕs hair is blown by a foul wind]
[Cut To: A wintery landscape of bright blue and white. Snow flakes
that look as if they have been cut out of paper whirl about the
screen in patterns. The camara pans to a friendly looking snow
man with a beard, mustache, hat, and scarf]
SNOWMAN: Yesssss, poor Rochefort had gotten himself in quite a
fix. For he had awoken .... Abominable.
[Cut To: Rochefort, suspended in the air, struggling vainly to
remove the hands from his throat.]
SNOWMAN: [V.O.] Of course I havenÕt yet explained how Rochefort
came upon Abominable in the first place.
[Cut To: Wintery landscape. Snowman.]
SNOWMAN: When last we heard from Rochefort, he was still intent
on his quest and was trying to bring together the former team
of companions who had once performed such feets of glory. His
next stop, the Halls of Fashion, to find Honor H.
[Cut To: The Halls of Fashion. HonorH is hurriedly trying to alphbatize
some dresses. There are crates full of fashion and a Christmas
tree.]
CALVIN KLEIN: [As he passes through the room] You there. Fashion
wench. Hurry with those dresses. How will we ever find the oneÕs
we need if they arenÕt in alphabetical order! And get that
Christmas tree down and out of here.... its cliche and passe.
HONORH: Yes, sir. IÕm ... hurrying....
[HonorH turns from the rack of dresses to open another crate of
fashion and comes face to face with Rochefort.]
ROCHEFORT: Hi, darling.
HONORH: Oh, god. Rochefort, get out of my way. I have work to
do.
ROCHEFORT: You arenÕt surprised to see me?
HONORH: You donÕt matter to me enough for me to be surprised,
Rochefort. Get lost.
ROCHEFORT: Listen, I need your help. IÕm reassembling the
MOLOJ team.
HONORH: [stopping her motion] Ponygirl? CJL? Rob? The others?
ROCHEFORT: Um.... yep.
HONORH: How are those guys!?
ROCHEFORT: Uh....goo...theyÕre good. WeÕre all gonna
meet. Probably. Back at my chateau. You should come. Big mission.
Very exciting.
HONORH: Rochefort, IÕd love to see Ponygirl and the rest
but.... IÕve got... important fashion things to do. But
if theyÕre going to be in France, tell them to stop by,
o.k.? See you later, Rochefort. [She walks by him.]
ROCHEFORT: (solemnly) IÕm trying to bring Buffy back.
HONORH: I donÕt give a ratÕs ass what crazy scheme
youÕve concocted, Rochefort.
ROCHEFORT: I... kind of figured youÕd feel that way. ItÕs
a pity. I guess IÕll have to get someone else to help me.
HONORH: Yeah.
ROCHEFORT: Someone more likely to hear my story with some empathy.
HONORH: Mhm.
ROCHEFORT: Someone with an interest in schemes that might possibly
maybe be a tiny bit evil.
HONORH: Great. Good luck.
ROCHEFORT: Someone with better fashion sense than you.
HONORH: Hey.... who are we talking about?
[Rochefort splashes HONORH with a red liquid.]
HONORH: What the.... you creep! That was a hand woven.... polo....blazer....gorgio
aramani....thingy... [Notices the liquid is giving off a terrible
smell.] Gawd....what is this stuff?
ROCHEFORT: A little compound I had whipped up for me. Works on
werewolves to keep them in their wolf like state past the full
moon.... I figured.....
HONORH: Oh you didnÕt. [Then shrugs] Well.... youÕre
funeral.
[HonorH suddenly morphs to three times her former size (and beauty,
and charm, and wit) and promptly grabs Rochefort by the throat
and slams him against the wall]
[Cut To: Wintery landscape. Snowman]
SNOWMAN: Yessir, Rochefort had awoken Abominable. Good thing his
assistant Dirk, the former communist, was nearby. He rushed to
RochefortÕs aid.]
[Cut to: Halls of Fashion. Dirk rushes to RochefortÕs aid.
Honorificus holds Rochefort with one hand, and with the other
snaps off DirkÕs head, reaches over to her left, and hangs
it from a bow on the Halls of Fashion Christmas Tree. Then she
alphbatizes DirkÕs body with the dresses, grabs the Christmas
tree, and throws it through the roof of the building letting in
the wintery French air.]
ROCHEFORT: [Gasp] [Wheez]
HONORIFICUS: Hm? CanÕt hear you.
SNOWMAN: [V.O.] Rochefort was starting to lose consciousness.
Night was falling inside his head, but itÕs sometimes at
moments like those.... that dawn...um....right before the dark...comes.
Out of his periphery vision, through the hole in the roof that
Abominable had made.... he thought he saw a tiny glowing red light
in the sky. And then....could it be? The sound of tiny little
hoof steps on the roof.
ANGELÕS NIBBLET: GAAAAAAA!!!!
JANE: GAAAAAAAAA!!!!!
SNOWMAN: [V.O.] Yes, just then, two small hobbit looking women
on two small unicorns swooped into the room through the hole in
the roof. One of them was carrying the glowing red head of Dirk.
JANE: CHARRGE!
ANGELÕS NIBBLET: YAYYYY!
SNOWMAN: [V.O.] And the unicornÕs alit on the ground and
started prancing around in a circle on the floor of the Hall of
Fashion storeroom while the two hobbit women danced on their backs.
HONORIFICUS: What the hell?
ROCHEFORT: [Gasp]
HONORIFICUS: Are those.... UNICORNS!?
[Honorificus shrieks, or more bellows really.... and drops Rochefort
to the ground where he collapses trying to breathe.]
HONORIFICUS: The lord himself has never created a creature more....sickiningly
...shiningly... disgustingly....GOOD. And yet at the same time....so
terribly, maddeningly, stickily....gauche. I feel like the knick
nacks in my grandmotherÕs house all got together to take
revenge on me. IÕm being attacked by hummels on unicorns.
Satan save me.
JANE: Hey.... shut it, lady.
[AngelÕs NibbletÕs unicorn rides forward and stabs
her in the thigh with its horn.]
HONORIFICUS: AAUuuuggh!
ANGELÕS NIBBLET: That was a um....accident....woah unicorny....wooahhhhh.....
ROCHEFORT: [Looking up from the ground] IÕll call them
off if you agree to hear me out!
JANE: Did he say heÕd call us off? Who does he....
ANGELÕS NIBBLET: wooaaahhhh....
[AngelÕs Nibblet rolls backward off her unicorn and falls
on her head.]
HONORIFICUS: Good, yes, fine. Just get them away from me. Even
your boring prattling would better than these figurines.
ROCHEFORT: IÕm on a quest.
HONORIFICUS: oh yawn.
ROCHEFORT: ItÕs an um.... an EVIL quest.
HONORIFICUS: Oh sure it is. .... really?
ROCHEFORT: Yes. I plan to disrupt the natural order of things.
HONORIFICUS: HA! You!?
JANE: Hey. We found this head outside. WhereÕs the body?
ROCHEFORT: Not alone, no. But it is a great and magnificent evil
quest that could only be truly accomplished by Honorificus herself.
SNOWMAN: Now, Abominable had very few weaknesses. And flattery
was it.
ANGELÕS NIBLET: This might be the body for the head, you
think?.... hanging in the dresses over this pool of blood.
ROCHEFORT: I know youÕve always hated Buffy and the Scooby
gang.... but ever since theyÕve been gone, you havenÕt
had anyone to write your effulgent Super Evil Review about.
HONORIFICUS: ItÕs true.
ROCHEFORT: But if we brought them back, you could subject them
to torture and then.... write a review on it.
HONORIFICUS: Bring them back?
ROCHEFORT: Mhm. For real.
HONORIFICUS: Giles, too?
ROCHEFORT: Giles naked.
HONORIFICUS: Hmmm....
JANE: [Dragging the body] Bring me my medical bag, would you Nib?
ANGEL'S NIBBLET: Why is he glowing like that?
JANE: [Looking in the head's mouth] He swallowed a christmas tree
light.
ROCHEFORT: What else are you spending your time doing? (gestures
at the crates of fashion).
HONORIFICUS: O.k., IÕm in. But are the unicorns and the
hummels coming?
ANGELÕS NIBBLET: Coming where?
JANE: Hey, buddy.... I taped your friendÕs head back on.
ROCHEFORT: ThatÕs....great.
ANGELÕS NIBBLET: Jane, I think weÕre going on an
adventure.
JANE: (deep sigh) I donÕt know. Could we catch a rest first?
We were flying our unicorns in the sky for like an hour. The only
way IÕd come is if it was a really rebellious quest.
ROCHEFORT: WeÕre going to disrupt the natural order.
JANE: O.k., IÕm in. Do you want your friend? IÕm
done.
[She gestures at the limp form of Dirk. His head taped back on.]
HONORIFICUS: IÕll take him. HeÕs kind of cute. Just
needs a little jujjing. [She jujjes Dirk, then folds him in half
and puts him in her napsack.]
[Cut to: The street outside the Halls of Fashion. A woman sits
on the curb with a hat in front of her, strumming a lute.]
ANN: (singing) Raaahhb Raaaaahb....heÕs not a snaaaahb.
[Seeing Rochefort] Got a quarter for a song about the President
of Prague? Praaague praaague good place to snog.
ROCHEFORT: (stops dead. looks at her.) Are you by any chance a
bard?
ANN: Maybe.
ROCHEFORT: I might have need of the services of one such as yourself.
Come with us. IÕll pay you.
ANN: Payyy payyyyy that sounds okaayyyy.
ROCHEFORT: Yeah.
JANE: How come we donÕt get paid?
ROCHEFORT: YouÕre doing it out of idealism.
ANGELÕS NIBBLET: Plus, IÕm his fiance.
[Cut to: Wintery Landscape.]
SNOWMAN: And so, Rochefort, Abominable, the two unicorns (one
of them fake), the two hobbit hummels, the traveling bard and
the former communist with his head taped on, made their way back
to RochefortÕs chateau. Yes, one problem had been defeated....
but the troubles of this band of misfits were just beginning.....
[> [> [> [> [> How did you know that only children
and the deaf like my singing!! lol -- Ann, 14:34:41 01/07/04
Wed
My kids keep asking what I am laughing about. To quote one of
them: "Oh cool, Mommy is in the story"
I just love a quest. I don't get many of them except to find lost
toys or finding lost personal statements from my grad students!!!
Yes indeed. Can we go to the Island of Misfit toys? Or to a Misfits
concert? Are they still around?
[> [> [> [> [> [> A Quest?! I'm in!!! *jumps
on unicorn and rides into the sunset* -- angel's nibblet,
13:10:20 01/08/04 Thu
Yay for hobbits! Hobbits of the world unite!
Any excuse for an adventure eh.
Keep up the good work Roche!
[> [> [> [> [> Hey Midnight! We're famous!...
-- Jane, 18:54:16 01/07/04 Wed
OMG,Rochefort,that may be the funniest adventure I have had yet.
My computer screen needs some serious cleaning - Midnight spit
his hay all over it from all the laughing.
Hummels on unicorns? Now that's just...neat.
[> [> [> [> [> [> ok, lemme try my hand at
this... (no, not the writing! the songs!) -- anom, 20:30:12
01/07/04 Wed
Paris it sizzles, or will tout de suite
Hummels on unicorns, that's just neat!
Um...that's all I got. Can't even remember the rest of the original.
I'll just be over here trying to salvage my filksong credentials....
[> [> [> [> [> Re: Chapter 4 -- A Fellowship
of Misfits -- dub ;o), 07:02:03 01/08/04 Thu
Ah, but are they humble Hummel hobbits?
[> [> [> [> [> [> LOL! -- Rochefort,
13:03:23 01/08/04 Thu
[> [> [> [> [> [> Humble? lil ol' moi? (waving
to the fans), but of course! -- Jane, 17:52:17 01/08/04
Thu
[> [> [> [> [> It figures.... -- Masq, 14:48:44
01/08/04 Thu
That Rochefort would forget "Angel the Series" even
exists. Of course Honorificus still has episodes to write
her Super Evil Review about! It's just quarterly instead of weekly.
And I suppose I'm driving the van again?
[> [> [> [> [> [> I was getting to the part
where we ASK you to drive the van....metaphorically. -- Rochefort,
17:44:59 01/08/04 Thu
of course.... we need to find a side for you. The unicorn side
or the side of pom poms.
Rochefort
[> [> [> [> [> [> [> Rochefort, get back
to work on your thesis. I'm taking over here... -- cjl, 18:23:24
01/08/04 Thu
Chapters Five and Six coming up tonight. International espionage,
impromptu fashion reviews, metanarration, and unicorn folk dancing
in Prague, Paris, and Vienna. More details of Rochefort's master
plan revealed. A surpise guest star.
Masq, tomorrow morning, I'd like to re-post all six chapters and
the interludes to a new thread, because this sucker's about to
eat the board. (Once I've created the new thread, this one can
go to the archives.)
[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> Re: Rochefort,
get back to work on your thesis. I'm taking over here... --
Jane, 18:30:06 01/08/04 Thu
Oh, goody! I was thinking about going to see LOTR again tonight,
but Unicorn dancing in Prague? You just have to stay home to see
that! Eagerly sitting by the computer,we are - just me and my
unicorn. Here,Twinkletoes, let me polish those hooves...
[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> Poor
you :-S -- angel's nibblet, 20:57:50 01/08/04 Thu
RotK or dancing unicorn folk being ridden by kamikaze hobbits?
Tough decision...
Help me think of a snappy name for my unicorn, something to match
Midnight. How about Lunchtime? Hmmmm maybe not....no, definitely
not!
[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> You
two are great characters. I'm glad I wrote you. -- Rochefort,
21:21:07 01/08/04 Thu
[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [>
Have to agree with you there :-D!!! Hobbits are great, though
I should warn you... -- angel's nibblet, 00:46:40 01/09/04
Fri
...in the end I may leave you for Frodo. Sorry, gotta stick to
my own species. Our relationship was doomed from the start *sniffle*
Oooooo I forsee a "Casablanca"-style ending. Not that
I've ever seen that movie....which is shocking if you ask me.
Oh yeah: and no, you can't have your ring back precioussss
;-)
Yeah I'm done now...
[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> Name
that unicorn! -- Jane, 22:36:26 01/08/04 Thu
Let's see.. how about Starlight? Starbright? First star I see..oh,sorry,
slipping into childhood nursery rhymes..
Obviously we must have a dignified name for your unicorn. Perhaps
something like, fantastic fabulous horned one (Fanny for short).
Sorry, my bad.
[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> Take it, cjl.
Can't wait to see it. -- Rochefort, 21:25:13 01/08/04 Thu
You've MOLOJ'S trust. And I'm exhausted and don't want to go back
to Darby's padded cell. I've gotten no sleep the last few days,
but turned in an application to the University of Pittsburgh last
night. phew. Three more to go. Anyway, I hope to rejoin the fray
soon. Ponygirl, you gonna write another chapter?
[> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> [> Chapter
5 done. Will post tomorrow morning. Working on Chapter 6...
-- cjl, 22:56:11 01/08/04 Thu
And Masq, your objections to Honorificus' fuzzy motivations in
joining Rochefort WILL be addressed in Chapter 6...
[> Chaper V: The Synchronicity Engine -- cjl, 06:38:21
01/09/04 Fri
[Office of the President of Prague. CJL, PONYGIRL, and ROB are
back from lunch.]
PONYGIRL (to ROB): Gotta hand it to you, Mr. President. That was
amazing. IÕve never tasted roast duck that tender in my
entire life.
CJL: Not surprised. That restaurant is one of the best in the
Mala Strana.
ROB: The where?
CJL: Mala Strena--Czech for "lesser quarter"?
ROB: Oh. Right. Of course. And it's got a wonderful view of that
big river.
PONYGIRL: The Vlatava.
ROB: The VlatawhateverÉ.yeah.
CJL: Can we get back to work now? I get the feeling weÕre
running out of time.
ROB: What, no dessert?
PONYGIRL: IÕm full, thanks. [To CJL] From what youÕve
been telling us, Rochefort was working on his master plan for
two years before he decided to bring in the old team. That means
one of two things: either heÕs run into a roadblock, and
he needs our helpÑ
CJL: Or heÕs finished whatever heÕs working on and
he wants us in on the grand opening.
PONYGIRL: I think IÕm going with the second option. RochefortÕs
not the kind of guy who admits to roadblocks.
CJL: That means weÕre probably too late.
PONYGIRL: Well, if we keep standing around here waiting for him
to make his next move, heÕs beaten us already.
CJL: So what do you suggest?
PONYGIRL: We have to find out exactly what kind of technology
heÕs got his greedy little hands on, what it looks like,
what it can do. [Looks around; to Rob] Rob, is there a computer
in this place?
[Rob presses a button underneath his desk, and the faux bookcase
on the right wall slides back to reveal a sixties-style IBM computer
mainframe.]
CJL (nodding): Retro. Cool.
[Ponygirl stares at the computer in disbelief.]
PONYGIRL: O-kay. [Shakes it off; to Rob] If this thing is capable
of searching the internet, check to see if anybody with any credentials
in physics or--
CJL: Psychology?
PONYGIRL: --or psychology has proposed anything like what Rochefort
was talking about.
CJL: Cross-reference "quantum physics" and "fictional
characters."
PONYGIRL: Or "collective unconscious."
ROB: Will do. Lemme get my punch cardsÉ.
[Ponygirl sighs in exasperation, and slumps into the chair in
front of RobÕs desk.]
CJL: DonÕt let it get to you.
PONYGIRL: I just canÕt get used to the shifts in tone.
Is this fanfic a psychological study, a James Bond-type espionage
drama, or a farce?
CJL: All three, actually. But donÕt worry about it; youÕre
doing beautifully.
PONYGIRL (looks up at him): Look--I appreciate the support, but
I donÕt think I can handle the innocent flirtation thing
right now. Could we just meta-narrate this part and get it over
with?
CJL: Oh. Sure. You wanna start off?
PONYGIRL: OK. I make a comment about your courage and determination
that shows my admiration and respect for you despite your aging,
Danny Strong-type physique.
CJL: Then I respond by complimenting your kick-ass abilities as
a superspy and show that IÕm not threatened by a powerful
woman.
PONYGIRL: Gracious acknowledgment with girlish lilt at the end.
CJL: Reaffirmation of long-standing friendship with slight innuendo
attached.
PONYGIRL: Acceptance with hint of UST.
ROB: Excuse me, are you guys done?
[CJL and Ponygirl glance at each other.]
CJL & PONYGIRL (to Rob): WeÕre done.
PONYGIRL (to CJL): Do you think that last bit of dialogue will
convince DÕHerblay to SHUT UP about "us"?
CJL: Nobody convinces dÕH to shut up.
ROB: Guys? Print-out comingÉ.
[CJL and Ponygirl walk over to the computer, where Rob is scanning
results printed on a continuous roll of perforated paper.]
ROB: NoÉ.no, thatÕs just crazyÉoh, hell noÉooooh.
Interesting. I think we have a winner. [Rob tears off the winning
entry along the dotted line and passes it to CJL.]
CJL: "Freeing the Imagination: Quantum Applications of Jungian
Theory." Karl Wohlmann, University of Vienna. September 1999.
Oh my god. This is it.
PONYGIRL: Are you sure?
CJL: Absolutely. He says he wants to "liberate the dreams
of man from their metaphorical prison." He talks about the
collective unconscious as parallel universe, accessible by manipulation
of quantum states. [Scans further down] He says hisÑgod,
the translation sucks hereÑI think itÕs "engine
of synchronicity" will bring about a new golden age.
PONYGIRL (almost to herself): Wohlmann. Sounds familiar.
ROB: Sounds like a nutbar.
CJL: Maybe, but Rochefort seems to be taking him very seriously.
[Frantically scans the rest of the article] Dammit! He doesnÕt
include a blueprint. Or specs.
ROB: Maybe we can ask him personally.
[Ponygirl has a "eureka" moment.]
PONYGIRL: No, we canÕt. I just rememberedÑInterpol
was going crazy about this case eighteen months ago. Wohlmann
disappeared from the University, along with his file cabinet,
his office computer, his HOME computer, and any piece of paper
on his desk that wasnÕt nailed down.
CJL: You gotta give Rochefort creditÑheÕs thorough.
ROB: Now what do we do?
PONYGIRL: Easy. We go to Vienna anyway. We interview WohlmannÕs
secretary, his wife, his colleagues, his dog, anybody who might
have access to his work, who could give us an idea of what the
hell this "engine" looks like.
CJL: I think weÕve got a plan.
ROB: Let me get my coat.
CJL: Got a spare? It was freezing on the ride over.
[CJL walks over to the closet just behind RobÕs desk, and
before Rob can say a word, he opens the door. CJL reviews the
array of coats on the rack and pulls out two cashmere-lined belted
raincoats. Then he looks down, and sees a woman, bound and gagged,
sitting on an overturned metal bucket. Upon closer examination,
he realizes itÕs Renee OÕConnor, Gabrielle from
Xena: Warrior Princess. OÕConnor emits a muffled cry for
help, and extends her tightly-bound hands, her eyes pleading for
assistance. CJL slams the door, his face frozen in shock.]
PONYGIRL: Are we ready?
CJL: Uh, yeah.
PONYGIRL: IÕll warm up the Ôcopter. [Exits.]
[CJL, still in shock, hands Rob his coat.]
ROB: It never leaves this room.
[CJL nods slowly.]
[Cut to: RochefortÕs chateau, just outside of Paris. Rochefort,
Honorificus, and Ann are sitting in the music room, Rochefort
at his desk, Ann warming up on the harpsichord and Honorificus
perchedÑincongruously and precariously--on a velvet-backed
antique divan. Rochefort is absorbed in his laptop and Honorificus
looks like sheÕs ready to explode into violence at a momentÕs
notice. Through the window, we see angelÕs nibblet and
Jane running their unicorns around the figures in the topiary
garden.]
ROCHEFORT (not looking up; to Honorificus): Be careful. ThatÕs
a genuine Louis Quatorze.
HONORIFICUS: So?
ROCHEFORT: Not sure it can support your weight.
HONORIFICUS (scowls): Really?
[Honorificus rises to herÉ.feet, I guessÉ.and glances
down at the exquisite piece of French craftsmanship.]
HONORIFICUS: Might not support my weight, you say?
[Honorificus rams one of her fists through the center of the divan
with the power of a hydraulic press, cleanly breaking the divan
in two.]
HONORIFICUS (grins evilly): Guess not.
ROCHEFORT (still not looking up): Was that really necessary?
HONORIFICUS: Bored now. If you donÕt give me something
to do, youÕre going to have refurnish this entire chateau.
ROCHEFORT: Patience. IÕm waiting for my contact to check
in. Listen to some music.
HONORIFICUS (glares balefully at Ann): If you call that music.
[Ann finishes warming up and launches into a traditional favorite:]
ANN (singing): Alas, my love, you do me wrong
To cast me off discourteously
And I have loved you for so long
Delighting in your company
Greensleeves was all my joy
Greensleeves was my delight
Greensleeves my heart of gold
And who but my Lady Greensleeves
[To HonorificusÕ utter horror, the unicorns are drawn to
the window by the sound of the harpsichord; Midnight and Morningstar
move in perfect union with the refrain, prancing three steps to
the left, then prancing three steps to the right, all with Jane
and angelÕs nibblet balanced on their backs. Ann finishes
the refrain, and Jane and angelÕs nibblet curtsy to formally
close the first verse.]
HONORIFICUS: Give me strength. Demons of the pit, give me strengthÉ.
ANN (singing): I have been ready at your hand
To grant whateÕer you would crave
I have both waged life and land
You love and good will to have
Greensleeves was all my joy
Greensleeves was my delight
Greensleeves my heart of gold
And who but my Lady Greensleeves
[Rochefort sways to the music. Jane and angelÕs nibblet
sway to the music. The unicorns sway to the music. Honorificus
looks like sheÕs about to projectile vomit, but then, inexplicably,
even SHE starts to sway to the music. She catches herself and
lets out a hideous, blood-curdling scream. Ann is startled and
the music stops; the unicorns wander away from the window.]
ROCHEFORT (still looking at his laptop): Bingo. (To Honorificus)
In the mood for some travel?
HONORIFICUS: IÕd take Disneyworld about now.
ROCHEFORT: How about Vienna?
HONORIFICUS: AdolphÕs old stomping grounds? I am SO there.
[Thinks for a minute] IÕll need a bit of camouflage. I
donÕt exactly blend in.
ROCHEFORT: Let me see what I can doÉÉ
[Cut to: an office in Albany, New York. DARBY dials the same number
he dialed in the post-interlude, and waits patiently for the other
end to pick up.]
ENGLISH VOICE: This had better be important.
DARBY: The players are in motion. WeÕre approaching the
end game.
E.V.: Excellent. Any progress on the engineÕs location?
DARBY: Not yet. But IÕm sure one side or the other will
lead us to it.
[Cut to: a study in London. We see a figure, cloaked in shadow,
holding the receiver of a late Victorian-era telephone.]
E.V.: I donÕt need to tell you, Darby, that the Consortium
will not tolerate failure in this matter. The stakes are simply
too high.
[The figure leans forward, into the light. ItÕs TCHAIKOVSKY.]
TCH: Only the best and the brightest amongst us should have the
right to control mankindÕs dreams.
[> [> Just to note -- Tchaikovsky, 10:05:31 01/09/04
Fri
TCH: Only the best and the brightest amongst us should have
the right to control mankindÕs dreams.
That's exactly the kind of pretentious nonsense I would say! And
it's starting to sound like His Dark Materials, which has
to be a good thing.
TCH
[> [> Yay! -- Pony, 10:31:30 01/09/04 Fri
Very well done!
Of course there's nothing like a note of wistful finality to fan
the flames of a 'ship. Damn our smoldering chemistry!
Gabby in the closet? Is this the emergence of Dark!Scruffy!Rob?
[> [> [> Dark!Scruffy!Rob emerged at DragonCon
-- LittleBit, 10:55:02 01/09/04 Fri
I shouldn't be surprised if he has Iyari in his closet at home.
[> [> I just call it as I see it -- d'Herblay, 10:40:06
01/09/04 Fri
Though I should admit that I think that cjl would probably show
UST with the proverbial cinder block.
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