Post by Lolua on Sept 14, 2005 17:04:37 GMT -5
I'm sorry, Nekoyasha, I know I said I would finish the Derkholm summary and I will... but I was looking at the character descriptions and I had an idea for Buffy... so I ran with it for a while. I know we had talked about her being temped until you found someone more permanent, and I suppose this is my way of volunteering. (Derkholm probably won't have much to do until someone shows up and pokes him between the eyes.)
Let me know what you think! ;D
Buffy smoothed out her pretty red skirt and flashed her best smile into the mirror. "Welcome to the lair of Muffin, Future Supreme Overlord of the Universe. Please wipe your feet and prepare to die," she practiced saying, over and over again, with different intonations and inflections, until she had it honed to the perfect level of gleeful evil. Buffy was half imp and half cheerleader, making gleeful evil her birthright, so it shouldn't have been hard. But then, she was blond, which made everything ten times harder than it could have been.
For one thing, there was the matter of steady employment. She'd had a few jobs over the course of the last few years; coat-check girl in the eighth circle of hell, tour guide on the Styx ferry, seating hostess at the Interdimensional House of Pain -- she'd even worked the drive-through window at Burger Fuhrer.
None of them had lasted very long. She'd been fired from the coat-check gig for failing to meet her quota, laid off from the ferry, and sacked from the IHOP for making inappropriate use of a spatula. Working at Burger Fuhrer had just been unbearable -- her boss kept expecting her to be able to do math 'n stuff! -- and she'd walked off the job after only two weeks.
So now she was working for Muffin. He'd spotted her at the Underlands Cafe, where she sat drinking coffee and staring out into space as she contemplated the mysteries of the universe -- church picnics, algebra, and one-piece bathing suits being chief among them.
Maybe her long, pointed tail had been sticking out into the aisle between the tables, or perhaps Muffin had seen the small, curved horns that grew from the top of her forehead. Whatever had drawn him to her table, the pink poodle had stood coughing impatiently next to her chair for several minutes before she even realized he was there.
"Hunh?" she said, turning around to face the sound of the coughing. At first she saw no one, then looked down and saw a small, pink poodle who looked seriously displeased.
"Oooh, aren't you just the cutest thing!" she cooed, bending down to scratch him under the chin, instinctively finding just the right spot. The poodle looked as if he didn't know whether to lick her face or bite her hand off.
He seemed to setlle for a stern reprimand. "Unhand me at once," the dog snapped, causing Buffy to jerk backwards in surprise. It was a testament to Buffy's stupidity that a talking animal was in any way shocking to her, since she lived in the Underlands, where such things were almost as common as troll dung.
"That's better," Muffin said imperiously. "Now..." He looked up at Buffy as if peering into her very soul, which was very difficult considering that she only had half of one and it had grown transparent from disuse. But whatever he saw in her -- one wonders what, if anything, he found -- seemed to satisfy him, for he pointed directly between her wide, empty eyes and said, "I am Muffin, Future Supreme Overlord of the Universe, and you are my new minion -- assisstant, if you prefer. You will report to my lair Monday morning at nine o'clock sharp. It's the largish castle down the road from the Hedonist's Corner Mall; even you can't miss it."
Buffy nodded dumbly, which none of the rapt spectators in the cafe found surprising in any way. She knew where the mall was, of course, but she didn't remember ever seeing a castle around there. Perhaps it was new.
"Bring your nail file and a dictionary. We have our work cut out for us," Muffin concluded, before turning on his heel and stalking out of the cafe.
More than a little bewildered, Buffy had gone home soon afterward. She had dutifully looked up the word "dictionary", then sighed in relief when she realized she already had one.
Since then she had been practicing in front of the mirror, preparing herself for what she knew could be the greatest opportunity of her lifetime. She knew this, not because she had the instincts of a true opportunist, but because she had read it in the first chapter of Minioning for Dummies, which her father had procured for her on her sixteenth birthday.
Buffy smiled into the mirror one last time, reflecting that if she did a good job, she'd be able to write her own book: Buffying for Dummies. The thought made her delirious with joy -- or perhaps she was just delirious from the sudden and unexpected onset of conscious thought.
Let me know what you think! ;D
Buffy smoothed out her pretty red skirt and flashed her best smile into the mirror. "Welcome to the lair of Muffin, Future Supreme Overlord of the Universe. Please wipe your feet and prepare to die," she practiced saying, over and over again, with different intonations and inflections, until she had it honed to the perfect level of gleeful evil. Buffy was half imp and half cheerleader, making gleeful evil her birthright, so it shouldn't have been hard. But then, she was blond, which made everything ten times harder than it could have been.
For one thing, there was the matter of steady employment. She'd had a few jobs over the course of the last few years; coat-check girl in the eighth circle of hell, tour guide on the Styx ferry, seating hostess at the Interdimensional House of Pain -- she'd even worked the drive-through window at Burger Fuhrer.
None of them had lasted very long. She'd been fired from the coat-check gig for failing to meet her quota, laid off from the ferry, and sacked from the IHOP for making inappropriate use of a spatula. Working at Burger Fuhrer had just been unbearable -- her boss kept expecting her to be able to do math 'n stuff! -- and she'd walked off the job after only two weeks.
So now she was working for Muffin. He'd spotted her at the Underlands Cafe, where she sat drinking coffee and staring out into space as she contemplated the mysteries of the universe -- church picnics, algebra, and one-piece bathing suits being chief among them.
Maybe her long, pointed tail had been sticking out into the aisle between the tables, or perhaps Muffin had seen the small, curved horns that grew from the top of her forehead. Whatever had drawn him to her table, the pink poodle had stood coughing impatiently next to her chair for several minutes before she even realized he was there.
"Hunh?" she said, turning around to face the sound of the coughing. At first she saw no one, then looked down and saw a small, pink poodle who looked seriously displeased.
"Oooh, aren't you just the cutest thing!" she cooed, bending down to scratch him under the chin, instinctively finding just the right spot. The poodle looked as if he didn't know whether to lick her face or bite her hand off.
He seemed to setlle for a stern reprimand. "Unhand me at once," the dog snapped, causing Buffy to jerk backwards in surprise. It was a testament to Buffy's stupidity that a talking animal was in any way shocking to her, since she lived in the Underlands, where such things were almost as common as troll dung.
"That's better," Muffin said imperiously. "Now..." He looked up at Buffy as if peering into her very soul, which was very difficult considering that she only had half of one and it had grown transparent from disuse. But whatever he saw in her -- one wonders what, if anything, he found -- seemed to satisfy him, for he pointed directly between her wide, empty eyes and said, "I am Muffin, Future Supreme Overlord of the Universe, and you are my new minion -- assisstant, if you prefer. You will report to my lair Monday morning at nine o'clock sharp. It's the largish castle down the road from the Hedonist's Corner Mall; even you can't miss it."
Buffy nodded dumbly, which none of the rapt spectators in the cafe found surprising in any way. She knew where the mall was, of course, but she didn't remember ever seeing a castle around there. Perhaps it was new.
"Bring your nail file and a dictionary. We have our work cut out for us," Muffin concluded, before turning on his heel and stalking out of the cafe.
More than a little bewildered, Buffy had gone home soon afterward. She had dutifully looked up the word "dictionary", then sighed in relief when she realized she already had one.
Since then she had been practicing in front of the mirror, preparing herself for what she knew could be the greatest opportunity of her lifetime. She knew this, not because she had the instincts of a true opportunist, but because she had read it in the first chapter of Minioning for Dummies, which her father had procured for her on her sixteenth birthday.
Buffy smiled into the mirror one last time, reflecting that if she did a good job, she'd be able to write her own book: Buffying for Dummies. The thought made her delirious with joy -- or perhaps she was just delirious from the sudden and unexpected onset of conscious thought.
