Once Upon a Good Time Band. . .

by ALC Punk!

"This is the story of that night. A night so... well, it wasn't terrible, but a night so... so--damn. I can't think of any word descriptive enough, ah well. That it will go down in the history of court cases and Subreality. Forever."

"Apparently, it was a normal night in this so-called 'Subreality Cafe' home to the 'denizens' of 'fanfiction.' One of the things any cop learns quickly, is how to determine truth from fiction and the bad guys from the good guys. As I stepped into this 'cafe, I found myself surrounded with malicious beings who were out to get me, and then--"

"Mulder! I told you this guy does NOT know what he's talking about, WHY are we wasting our time reading this file again?"

A dark-haired man looked at his redheaded partner and shrugged somewhat guiltily. "Scully, I just think--"

"Oh, really? He thinks? That's so cuuute!" Someone snickered and then two Sailor Moon fictives dropped down into the booth and flirted at Mulder with their eyes.

Scully sighed, "Dammit, this happens too much." Her head banged the top of the table as two more fictives (one female, one male) arrived to fawn and giggle over Mulder. Mulder looked rather baffled.

"Scully, I really don't KNOW why they do this."

"Right, studmuffin. I'm sure." She informed him dryly. Watching as more fictives began drifting over, she stood up. "I'm going up to the bar for a drink."

As she strode towards the bar, she absently wondered when she'd gone valley-girl, then decided it was the amount of feminine stupidity back at the booth.

On her way she passed several tables and conversations. A group of Gambits and Pete Wisdoms were playing a never-ending Peanuckle game, with Logans standing by if needed to fill out a hand. Several Lorna Danes were discussing the finer points of Summers' baiting. And quite a few She-Hulks were looking nonplussed about the lack of good fanfic about them; and the lack of alcohol on their table.

"Excuse me, ma'am!" One of the Jennifers hailed her.

Scully slowed, "Yes?"

"Could you tell the bartender we need another twelve Scotch and waters?" another asked her pleasantly.

Studying the rather tall, green women, Scully nodded and carefully edged towards the bar, "Sure."

"Thank you."

"You know what gets me? Is all those Writers that--Oh, hi Ms. Scully." The Bartender politely ceased his conversation with the Jubilee fictive. "What might I do for you?"

"Well, the table of Jennifers would like twelve Scotch and waters." She nodded discreetly back at the green women. "And I'd like a nice shot of tequila rose--no, wait. Just give me the whole damned bottle."

*After all, if I'm going to have to suffer another night of watching HIM get hit on, I might as well have some fortification.* As she was a fictive, it never would have occurred to Ms. Scully that she could break away from her love/lust relationship with Mulder and gone off after a man of her own. Normally. At least, that's the way it worked that night.

Until someone took things into their own hands.

Three Illyana Rasputins sat around, bored. In and of itself, this was a recipe for disaster. BUT, combine this with three other factors, and... BOOM! One of those factors has already been mentioned.

"So, you got kicked out of the Hut? Why? I'd think they'd be ecstatic to have the SexGod grace the room." A piece of conversation floated around and finally settled at another table, where two fuzzy bunny slippers ceased sipping guinness and burrrurped.

"Skkkt?"

"Kkstttgg."

In a distant field, a cow lowed in shock and suddenly winked out of existance. (WHY did it low in shock, first? This question is sure to be running through many people's minds.) And, truthfully, the drunken young man that had been about to tip the cow over was still standing there, arms poised to shove. Blinking in confusion.

"Carly? Didja jus' shee tha'?"

"Shut up, Sean and get back in the car. PLEASE." A deep female voice abjured. The drunk shakily staggered to the car and they left.

Two pieces have been set in motion. On to the intermission.

End Part One.

Intermission.

Intriguingly obscure music plays softly, and two men pace the floor, muttering. One appears to be worrying about golf scores. The other--but, wait, an interruption.

The door burst open and a young RAF man dashed in. "Sirs! Bally down the hatches, and wobble the ribblies!"

"I'm sorry, Corporal, but I'm not sure what you said, could you repeat it?" The man with the mustaches and pipe stopped pacing and looked mildly interestedly at the intruder.

"Well, sir, I said--"

"HALT! This sketch is NOT funny, therefore it's being stopped." A colonel stalked across the stage and shuffled everyone off.

An empty stage remains, a sad, lonely chair and a piano with a naked organist perched on the seat.

End intermission.

Begin Part Two.

The naked organist strolled into the 'cafe and stopped next to a table containing three wise men. "The deed is done, memsahibs."

"Very good."

Ten minutes later, the lights went out.

"Do you think this is such a good idea?"

"Of course!"

"I'm arguing with myself. How surreal."

"Shut up and help me set this pentagram straight."

"Who taught you pentagrams?"

"Wanda Maximoff."

"But I thought--"

"SHhhh... The lights will be back on any minute. And we NEED to have this done soon."

Ten seconds later, the lights came back on.

It was to a scene of chaos. People guiltily froze in various stages of... well... um... *whisper* a food fight.

Two Scotts looked exceedingly embarrassed as they set down their ammunition of peeled bananas. A Jean smirked and continued her throw of peaches in juice.

Peach juice splattered a nearby Gambit, and he was immediately set upon by a Rogue (with her powers nullified).

"Oh, sugah, Ah've always LOVED peaches."

"Um, Rogue, chere, I--" A rather long kiss ensued during which the Gambit forgot what he was going to say.

As plots will do, this one shattered in that instant. Three Illyanas quietly chuckled.

"Scott, I really, really, really need you."

"Madelyne, I'm married to Jean now."

"I don't care! Take me!"

"Out to the ballgame, take me out to the crowd," a Jubilee sang off-key as she chased a Jonny Storm. "C'mon, cutie, all I want's a kiss!"

"I'm engaged! Go away!"

"Phasers locked on-target, sir."

"It's Kes!" Two Bobbys converged on the diminutive blonde elf, who stood there looking extremely puzzled.

"Um, hi. Where am I?"

"This is the Subreality Cafe."

A Gambit shouldered the Bobby on the left, "Hello, chere, may I welcome you to dis here 'cafe?"

"Um, yeah. Can I have your children?"

An anguished shriek rang out and four Rogues began fighting over something small and fuzzy.

"It's mine!"

"NO!"

"MINE!"

"Stop being so childish!"

"Excuse me, could I *please* have my toupee back?" Professor Charles Xavier looked rather peeved as he grabbed the piece of brown hair from their hands. "Thank you." He turned on his heel and stalked away.

"Hrmph."

"Indeed, sugah."

The four Rogues drifted off to find other things to do. In their wake they left a Sailor Moon fictive. "Mul-der."

Mulder was, at this point, barricaded in the bathroom with several Alex Summers and a Beast or two. It was the blue fur. The smell of sulfur hung in the air- -several Kurt Wagners had teleported various gentlemen to safety. Kurt Darkholme was sitting in the corner, sardonic amusement playing across his features.

"So, the women have gone a bit nuts."

"Yeah."

"Any ideas why?"

"Well, I'd ask Scully, but I don't think she's talking to me."

"Too right, mate." A Pete Wisdom staggered out of a stall and lit a cigarette. "Any ideas on gettin' out of this bloody place?"

"A concerted dash for the door?" Hank McCoy reached out and plucked Pete's cigarette out of his mouth. "And, please, sir, await the open air to pollute your lungs."

Pete rolled his eyes but refrained from saying anything cutting in this crisis situation.

Outside in the 'cafe a bottle broke and someone cried out as two Logans spurted blood from the cuts. The wounds quickly disappeared and the glass was swept up by one of the members of the dilligent, though besieged, staff.

Five Jeans were fighting over a Scott when a Maddie Pryor swooped in and grabbed him. Askani teleportation lights surrounded them and they dissappeared. Glaring, angry, shrieking Jeans began throwing tables at the walls.

As the tables shattered against the rather hard walls, a cow appeared in the middle of the room. "Mooo?"

Not many people noticed the cow. Those that did gave it no more than a passing glance, then continued pursuing their activities. No one stopped to pat it or tip it over, or feed it. The cow gave a cowish shrug and set down to chew its cud.

At this point, the lights went out, a bang was heard and the 'cafe blew up.

----

"The second court session of the Court of Subreality will now come into session and proceed with the proceedings." The Judge's voice rang out stentoriously, if a little redundantly.

"Would the Prosecution please begin its opening arguments?"

"Thank you, your honour." A smallish woman, looking like a cross between Valerie Cooper and Helen Mirren stood up and strode towards the jury box. The box itself contained twelve fictives. "Ladies, gentlemen and--other beings of the jury, the case you're about to hear, has. . ."

And the Prosecutor's voice droned on and on. The trial went on and on. But, really, it was VERY boring. Notwithstanding the cow's testimony, or the fainting Maddie Pryor.

However, the jury. The jury consisted of, Gladiator, Lillandra, Calliope (and wasn't having THOSE two sitting next to each other a bitch), Al, two Odos, a Sisko, a Val Cooper, one Cigarette-Smoking man (aka Cancer Man), a Gabrielle Haller, and two Natasha Romanovnas.

----

"Ladies and gentlemen and other beings of the jury, have you reached a verdict? Foreman?"

Lillandra nodded imperiously and stood up. "Your honour, we find the defendants--Illyana Rasputins, all three of them--guilty on all counts."

"Ms. Foreman, could you please read the counts out to the court again?" The judge directed.

Susan blinked. "Yes? Sorry sir, I wasn't paying attention."

"*ahem*" The colonel stepped through the courtroom and grabbed Susan. "You don't belong here."

At this point, a description of the audience is in order. It was a packed room, with the majority taken up with the somewhat embarrassed victims of the three Sorceresses. Of course, a few Muses lounged around, and several fictives that were bored eagerly tried to get in on the action by pretending they'd been there.

One such conversation that was overheard by a group of Muses. . .

"So, like, didja think anything wierd was goin' on when you first saw the cow?" A yellow-jacketed Jubilee snapped her gum.

"Well, yeah, I mean, ya know?" The second Jubilee grinned.

"In other words, Dex shouldn't have borrowed that cow." Interjected a Hank McCoy who had been looking bored, but now had a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"Oh, 'twasnae Dex. 'Twas actually Abyss." Rahne disagreed.

"All I know is that Rami, Dex, Seraph, Abyss and the slippers were involved."

Several fictives snickered. "Of course, they were."

Seated by herself in the back (if you can be by yourself when crowded in by several Cables) Maddie Pryor smirked to herself.

----

"The defendants were charged with gross negligence in magic, and intent to incur lust in the participants." Lillandra read out. "Also, intent to incur anger, rage and jealousy. Along with a need to throw things, such as food, chairs, tables and drinks."

"Sirs, I really do think you might want to reconsider that guilty verdict." And, in a whispered aside,"Abyss, the bunny slippers ARE in place, yes?" A worried-looking defense counsel, consisting of Hawkeye and Daredevil, attempted to throw the Jury and get them to recant.

Truthfully, the bunny slippers were back in the 'cafe, getting drunk again on Guinness and cigars. Brooke had provided them with Gummi bears, too. and as for Abyss, he was most likely off getting drunk with Dex. After all, he merely makes a good plot device.

But the jury didn't know that. Several of the fictives shifted and tried to surreptitiously look beneath their chairs. As none of them saw anything, they got a bit more antsy.

"Stop that." Calliope glared at them all. "We've reached our verdict, and NOTHING will overturn it."

"Quite right, quite right." The Judge boomed. "Have the jury decided on a fitting punishment for our wrong-doers?"

"Now, Your Honour, I really--"

"You've had your say, Mr. Defense Counsel. 'Didn't intend the destruction of the 'Subeality Cafe.'! Hrmph. Very likely, I'm sure."

In the audience, several Alex's hung their heads and looked ashamed about having lost control of their powers to such an extent that the 'cafe exploded.

"Your Honour, we, the Jury, believe the three defendants should be sentenced to appear in," Lillandra paused for breath. "Barney fics for the next three Subreality years."

Horrified shrieks arose from the dock and a blonde head reared over the top, "I am SO not doing that!"

Calliope snorted. "It's been said."

"So it has." The Judge nodded and glanced around, searching for a Writer. "Ah. Excuse me, ma'am."

"Yes?" Ana looked up uncertainly, having been buried in a conversation concerning the construction and planning of something nefarious with a Val Cooper.

"Would you please write these three miscreants into Barney world?"

Ana blinked. "OK." She opened up a new document on her notepad and quickly began typing.

Illyana Rasputin and her two dopplegangers appeared abruptly in the middle of a cheerful, sunny, playroom. Around them children danced and sang. "I love you, you love me..."

And horrified shrieks echoed through Subreality.

"Mulder?"

end.

Back

Contact Me

© 1999 ALC Punk!.