From: norse Date: Sun Apr 13, 2003 2:05 am Subject: Fic: Duck Soup (Asteroid fic) Um. *shuffles into the light, blinking at the brightness and clutching a nearly empty bottle of Nyquil and a mangled box of Kleenex* I'm alive. Um. Here's my Slashing the Slashers fic. Now I'm off to check the message archive, 'cause my inbox died about two weeks ago. --Poet, still sniffly but feeling *much* better ------------------------------- Title: Duck Soup Author: Poet http://www.squidge.org/~norse http://www.squidge.org/~norse/fic.html My Slashing the Slasher entry. Not only woefully smut-free, but also woefully late. It's like a two-for-one deal. (I had like mono or something, so please don't hate me too much.) The pairing is Tronny/Doe. I made some vague attempt at sounding like them. Don't think it worked out all that well, though. I don't own Tronny or Doe or anyone else mentioned. No wait. I've decided I do! *sticks Tronny under one arm, Doe under the other, and runs away cackling* Massive chunks of Red Dwarf scripts have been lifted. Names have been changed to protect the innocent and blatantly implicate the guilty. This fic received a Flesch-Kincaid Grade Level of 3.8, which I think is a new low for me. Dedicated to Tronny and Doe, whom I hope are good sports. Also dedicated to the BSF, 'cause I gave him dialogue! *bg* (04/13/03) * Duck Soup by Poet * "Duck!" Doe obediently hit the floor "Duck!" the klaxon blared again. "Wha?" Doe mumbled, peering up from the deck. "Duck!" Lauren's voice cried out from the speakers a third time. "Quack-quack, Doe. Not 'Impending Nuclear Holocaust," Tronny clarified from about five feet up. "A real duck? On the asteroid?" Doe asked as she stood. She knew the asteroid could be a rather silly place and was used to the customary Yellow Alerts whenever Dervla ran out of KY, but "Duck Alert" was a new one on her. "Poeie and Rhi smuggled a few on as a joke. They kind of started breeding, and now we've got something of an infestation," Tronny explained, non-nonplussed. "The Big Stomping Foot managed to stamp out most of them, but every few weeks, someone will find one paddling around in the vat of mango juice on level three." Doe tried to ignore the thought of the BSF "stamping out" the wayward ducks, and she was very glad she hadn't been given clean-up duty. Instead, she focused on the ducks at hand. "So what do we do?" "Nothing, actually. Chriss will help the BSF into his leopard skin sandal, and he'll go on duck hunting duty. Lauren will probably give Poeie another spanking, but she's always looking for an excuse to strap on the leather garters and pull out her riding crop." "No big deal, then?" Doe asked with a sigh of relief. "No. As long as no one is found to be aiding the duck." "Aiding the duck?" Tronny released a melancholy sigh. "Yeah. A while back, the BSF found a duck in someone's locker. Her name was Splinky. He stuck her in the strap of his sandal, carried her to an airlock, and threw her out into space." "Really?" Doe was stunned. "Indubitablement." "Wow." "It's not as bad as it sounds. She was picked up just in time by a passing ship running an improbability drive at two to the power of two hundred and seventy-six thousand, seven hundred and nine to one against. Still, Lauren decided that anyone found aiding a duck would be put into stasis for eighteen months." She paused. "With no slash!" Doe gasped in horror. "I didn't know Lauren could be so cruel!" * On the other side of the ship, Rhi heard Lauren and Dervla chatting as they approached her in the corridor. She had to get rid of the duck she was carrying fast. With a quick glance around, she pulled a small, white duck from a Tesco shopping bag and stuffed it into the nearest locker. She closed the door just in time to plaster a nervous smile on her face as the Unholy Two passed. She pressed her back against the legend spelling out "D-O-E" and completely failed to look nonchalant, but as she was always up to something, Lauren and Dervla didn't take any notice. Rhi heaved a sigh of relief as they turned the next corner. She broke into a run, trying to put as much distance between her and the duck as possible. * Several hours later, Doe found herself shuffling down the corridor behind Lauren, the BSF at her back to see that she didn't make a break for it. "But it wasn't mine!" she protested. "I swear!" Lauren stopped and turned to face her fellow slasher. "Doe, I'm really sorry about this," she said in her kindest voice, and she looked as if she really meant it. "But rules are rules. You were hiding a duck in your locker. There's nothing I can do." Doe could see the stasis chamber from where she stood, pressed back against the BSF. Lauren stepped up to the control pad and punched in the timing sequence. Doe decided she had one last shot. She spun around, feinted left, and ran right. She got about two steps before she fell forward under the weight of one enormous big toe. "ME NOT THINK SO!" The BSF hauled her up and pushed her into the stasis chamber. Doe sighed as the door closed. "See you in eighteen months," she mumbled morosely. * THREE MILLION YEARS LATER... Doe groaned as the door to the stasis chamber opened and she awoke. The asteroid's computer clicked on. "Good morning, Doe. It is now safe for you to emerge from stasis." "Didn't I just go in?" Doe asked, perplexed. "Please proceed to the Drive Room for debriefing." Doe gave the nearest speaker a funny look but headed down the corridor. She took a left into the asteroid's mess, and instead of finding the welcoming faces of her friends, she was met with lots of little piles of white powder. "Where is everybody, Computer?" Doe asked, sticking her finger into one of the piles of white powder and tasting it. "They're dead, Doe." "Who is?" "Everybody, Doe." "What, Lauren?" "Everybody's dead, Doe." "What, Dervla?" "Everybody's dead, Doe." "What, Poet?" "They're all dead. Everybody's dead, Doe." Doe turned back into the corridor with an uncomprehending expression on her face and headed towards the Drive Room. "Chriss isn't, is she? " Everybody is *dead*, Doe." "Not Cheezdanish?" "Gordon Bennett! Yes! Cheezdanish, everybody. Everybody's dead, Doe." "Tronny?" "She's dead, Doe. Everybody's dead. Everybody is dead, Doe!" Comprehension was beginning to dawn. "Wait. Are you trying to tell me everybody's dead?" "I wish I'd never let her out in the first place." * Doe looked around at the Drive Room and all the little piles of white powder everywhere. "How?" she asked in complete shock. "The drive plate was inefficiently repaired. It blew, and the entire crew was subjected to a lethal dose of helium 2 before I could seal the area." Doe made her way to one of the powder-covered chairs, brushed it off with the back of her hand, and sat down. "Oh, this is terrible," she moaned. As an afterthought, she added, "And why is it so dirty around here, Computer? What is this stuff?" She dipped one of her fingers into the nearest pile and tasted it. "That is Catering Officer Luvsrimmer." Several guttural sounds issued from Doe's mouth as she spat Luvsie out. "I've been eating half the crew! And who's that?" "That's Lauren." "And that's Dervla," Doe said, pointing to another pile. "No, that's Tronny." "Hold on," Doe said, fully considering the dust piles for the first time. "How long was I in stasis?" "Well, I couldn't release you until the radiation reached a safe background level." "How *long*?" Doe insisted. "Three million years." Doe fell backwards out of her chair. "Three million years? So everyone's dead? I'm on my own? There's just me?" "Well, technically speaking, yes." "What do you mean, 'technically speaking?'" Doe asked uncertainly. At that moment, Tronny walked in. As a hologram. * ONE EVOLVED DUCK LIFEFORM, TWO SERVICE MECHANOIDS WITH THE SAME NAME BUT DIFFERENT ACCENTS, SIX TELEVISION SERIES, AND A LIGHT BEE LATER... "Hard light?" Doe could hear the uncertainty in Tronny's voice, but she could also feel Tronny's breath next to her cheek. She felt Tronny's solidity as she prodded the hologram's arm, as well. "I've got a body? I can touch?" Tronny breathed in amazement. Doe stared at Tronny's hand as it was placed on her shoulder. "Feel?" "Puncture repair kit on standby, sir," Netyrk quipped, but Doe barely heard him. Six years of yearning were finally at an end. No more pining in her upper bunk, thinking of the hologram only a few feet and a million miles beneath her. All Doe could think was, "At *last*." And she fancied Tronny was thinking the exact same thing. PORN MUSIC BLARES (bow chicka wow). FADE TO BLACK. *