Getting the Muses Off My Back
Sep. 24th, 2006 05:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
crossover_chickMay I present TWO Drabbles88s!
-VD2: Two?-
Yeah, I wrote up the second one this afternoon. Inspiration comes at odd times.
60. Rebirth
“Hey Marty?”
“In here, Emmett!”
Emmett Brown followed his friend’s voice to the amplifier. Marty was standing there, hooking up his ever-ready guitar. Emmett grinned. “Oh, you’re going to try out the amplifier?”
“Sure thing,” Marty grinned back. “Stand back, kid, this’ll probably be loud.”
“Well, that’s the point,” Emmett said, moving back a few paces. Marty just winked, then brought his pick down.
The pair had about a second to enjoy the note that Marty had strummed. Then, the amplifier suddenly exploded, sending Marty across the room and into a bookcase. “Marty!” Emmett raced to his side, horrified. “Are you all right?”
“Marty?” Marty’s wife Jennifer appeared in the doorway. “What on earth happened?”
“There must have been a short somewhere in the amplifier -- it overloaded,” Emmett babbled, helping his friend up. “I’m so sorry, Marty, I thought I had worked out all the bugs.”
“It’s all right,” Marty said, regaining his feet. He smiled reassuringly at his wife. “I probably shouldn’t have turned it up so loud, that’s all.”
Jennifer rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Honestly, Marty. We’re not teenagers anymore. In fact, we’re about as far from teenagers as you can get.”
“Ah, there’s still plenty of life left in these old bones. I plan to keep rockin’ just as long as I’m able. I’m fine, really.”
Jennifer pulled them both into the kitchen. “I think you should sit down for a few minutes anyway. Get your equilibrium back.” She opened the fridge. “Emmett, you want anything to eat?”
“Not at the moment, thank you.”
“I’m fine too, dear,” Marty said, sitting at the table. Emmett joined him, setting down his books. “So, how was school today?”
“Good,” Emmett said. “Strickland was a bit of a pain, though. Kept telling me I’ll never get anywhere with my inventions.”
“Don’t you listen to him,” Marty said firmly. “He’s an ass, and he’s always been an ass. I know you, Emmett. You’re smart. One day, you’re going to invent something that’ll change the world.”
“Thanks Marty,” Emmett said. “I never pay him much mind, anyway.”
“Good,” Marty grinned. “You’re destined for great things, kid. I know it.”
“If you put your mind to it, you can accomplish anything,” Emmett nodded.
“Exactly,” Marty said, tousling Emmett’s hair.
Emmett grinned. Great Scott, you’d never think a kid like me would hang out with a guy like him. We’re just so different. I’m a science nerd, and he’s a rock and roll star. Not to mention the 47 year age difference. . . . And yet, somehow, it works. Probably helps that neither of us really act our age -- I’m certainly not your typical 17 year old, and he’s definitely not your typical 65 year old! He smirked to himself. Sometimes I wonder if somebody up there accidentally got our ages switched. . . .
-M: O.o-
-D: o.O-
Hehe. The inspiration for this one came from BTTF.com -- I randomly recalled a topic someone had made about "what if Marty were the old geezer and Doc the teenager?" The idea just grabbed me, so I decided to write it down. I tried to keep the personalities consistent while making it clear they weren't the RIGHT ages anymore.
-TD: I bet a few people thought it was another short story about my universe when they saw Marty call me Emmett.-
-VDM: Have you guys ever thought about calling Doc 'Emmett?'-
-VuM: We're with the MJ Holmes Marty on this -- it's weird, but if we had to do it to tell two Docs apart. . . .-
-M: It's easier if you're closer to our age. It felt a little awkward at first in "Teen Doc," but I managed to get used to it. Can't see calling my own Doc 'Emmett,' though.-
-J: What I'm curious about is why Victoria doesn't call any of the Docs Emmett.-
I do occassionally, especially while writing TeenDoc-related stuffs. However, using the Doc system makes it easier when I have to call for something.
-OD: Additionally, it's a lot harder to say "Doc" in a sexy manner. *tentacles nodnod, making disgusted noises.-
:p
24. Drink
“Why is a raven like a writing desk?”
Marty thought for a long while, sipping his tea -- which he was starting to think was spiked or something, given the circumstances. “Haven’t a clue,” he finally admitted. “What’s the answer?”
“I don’t know myself,” Doc said cheerfully, having some bread and butter.
“Nor I,” George nodded, stirring what seemed to be an ungodly amount of sugar into his tea.
Marty lifted an eyebrow. “Asking a riddle that even you don’t know the answer to? That’s not like you, Doc.”
Doc waved carelessly. “Well, what else am I supposed do to with the Time? We’re not on speaking terms anymore, you know.” He adjusted his bright purple top hat, which had started to fall into his eyes.
“Because of the time machines?” Marty guessed, although he really didn’t understand what Doc was talking about.
“Precisely! Time didn’t like me mucking around in him like I was, so he and I had a terrible quarrel.” Doc sighed, checking his watches. “And now it’s always six o’clock.” He frowned at the left one. “Marty, what day of the month is it?”
Marty took a moment. “The fourth.”
“Two days slow!” Doc glared at George. “I told you that butter wouldn’t suit the works!”
“It was the best butter,” George protested, his rabbit ears waggling madly. “And as we haven’t got any oil here, it was the best we could do.”
“Well, you could have at least used a clean knife to apply it,” Doc grumbled. “No doubt some bread crumbs got in.”
“I’ll wash it then,” George said, taking it off Doc’s wrist and dipping it into his tea.
“I dunno if the sugar will be good for the works either,” Marty said, taking a slice of bread and butter. “So you’re stuck here at six o’clock? Is that why there’s so many places set at the table?”
“Precisely,” Doc grinned. “Since there’s no more time for washing up. If things get dirty, we just change places.” He accepted his tea-soaked watch back from George. “But there is a nice thing about it always being six o’clock -- we can sit and chat for as long as we want, and not worry about the time at all. You don’t come around here no more.”
“What?”
“You don’t come around here no more,” Doc repeated, sounding like Tom Petty. “Whatever you’re looking for -- hey! -- it don’t come around here no more.” George joined in, very off-key. “I’ve given up, stop! I’ve given up, stop!”
Marty blinked. The tea party abruptly changed into his room, with the song coming from above his head. He reached up and shut off his radio, then looked down at the book still clutched in his hand. “Lewis Carroll had to be smoking something when he wrote Alice In Wonderland,” he muttered, putting it on the side table. “At least I got out before the Mad Hatter turned me into a cake.”
-M2: Somebody's been listening to too much Tom Petty.-
I can't help it, I like him! Yesterday I listened to far, far too many repetitions of the song "Don't Come Around Here No More." The video to the song has an Alice In Wonderland theme to it, so I started looking up some Alice stuff on the web for kicks. After discovering the character of the Hatter was based on a man who made some interesting inventions, the image of Doc as the Hatter become solidified in my mind. I chose George for the March Hare just because. A lot of the dialogue is based off the actual scene in the book, just in a different order. And of course I had to reference the Tom Petty song near the end.
-VM: That was a really whacked-out video.-
I've noticed a lot of 80s music videos are, actually. Though I still haven't seen anything that tops Bonnie Taylor's "Total Eclipse of the Heart" yet.
-MF: Yeah, that's the ultimate in crazy music videos.-
And for RPD, check out the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
revison_doc update about the FurKin. Not much going on, though I'm planning a sports party for later.
-RPD: Any chance of getting at least a little Eureka update today?-
I'll try, though I am thinking of sending April and Dave on a date today, and you know how my computer gets about community lots.
-OD: *tentacles chitter* We thought you were going to replace it?-
It's certainly getting to that point. I just want to get everything with my bank accounts straightened out -- looks like I'm going to be switching banks, and starting up a checking account.
-DW: Hmm, interesting. And what about story organization?-
I should check out the timeline -- hell, I need to add the events of "Strange Bedfellows" to it. I'll do that after Sims. I also need to finish up the page of "The Gift and the Curse."
-OD: And do something about the sprites!-
I know, I know! Now that I've gotten "Marty in Wonderland" out of my system, perhaps I can concentrate on those better.
So yes, off to do lots of stuff. I'll see everyone later.
-VD2: Two?-
Yeah, I wrote up the second one this afternoon. Inspiration comes at odd times.
60. Rebirth
“Hey Marty?”
“In here, Emmett!”
Emmett Brown followed his friend’s voice to the amplifier. Marty was standing there, hooking up his ever-ready guitar. Emmett grinned. “Oh, you’re going to try out the amplifier?”
“Sure thing,” Marty grinned back. “Stand back, kid, this’ll probably be loud.”
“Well, that’s the point,” Emmett said, moving back a few paces. Marty just winked, then brought his pick down.
The pair had about a second to enjoy the note that Marty had strummed. Then, the amplifier suddenly exploded, sending Marty across the room and into a bookcase. “Marty!” Emmett raced to his side, horrified. “Are you all right?”
“Marty?” Marty’s wife Jennifer appeared in the doorway. “What on earth happened?”
“There must have been a short somewhere in the amplifier -- it overloaded,” Emmett babbled, helping his friend up. “I’m so sorry, Marty, I thought I had worked out all the bugs.”
“It’s all right,” Marty said, regaining his feet. He smiled reassuringly at his wife. “I probably shouldn’t have turned it up so loud, that’s all.”
Jennifer rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Honestly, Marty. We’re not teenagers anymore. In fact, we’re about as far from teenagers as you can get.”
“Ah, there’s still plenty of life left in these old bones. I plan to keep rockin’ just as long as I’m able. I’m fine, really.”
Jennifer pulled them both into the kitchen. “I think you should sit down for a few minutes anyway. Get your equilibrium back.” She opened the fridge. “Emmett, you want anything to eat?”
“Not at the moment, thank you.”
“I’m fine too, dear,” Marty said, sitting at the table. Emmett joined him, setting down his books. “So, how was school today?”
“Good,” Emmett said. “Strickland was a bit of a pain, though. Kept telling me I’ll never get anywhere with my inventions.”
“Don’t you listen to him,” Marty said firmly. “He’s an ass, and he’s always been an ass. I know you, Emmett. You’re smart. One day, you’re going to invent something that’ll change the world.”
“Thanks Marty,” Emmett said. “I never pay him much mind, anyway.”
“Good,” Marty grinned. “You’re destined for great things, kid. I know it.”
“If you put your mind to it, you can accomplish anything,” Emmett nodded.
“Exactly,” Marty said, tousling Emmett’s hair.
Emmett grinned. Great Scott, you’d never think a kid like me would hang out with a guy like him. We’re just so different. I’m a science nerd, and he’s a rock and roll star. Not to mention the 47 year age difference. . . . And yet, somehow, it works. Probably helps that neither of us really act our age -- I’m certainly not your typical 17 year old, and he’s definitely not your typical 65 year old! He smirked to himself. Sometimes I wonder if somebody up there accidentally got our ages switched. . . .
-M: O.o-
-D: o.O-
Hehe. The inspiration for this one came from BTTF.com -- I randomly recalled a topic someone had made about "what if Marty were the old geezer and Doc the teenager?" The idea just grabbed me, so I decided to write it down. I tried to keep the personalities consistent while making it clear they weren't the RIGHT ages anymore.
-TD: I bet a few people thought it was another short story about my universe when they saw Marty call me Emmett.-
-VDM: Have you guys ever thought about calling Doc 'Emmett?'-
-VuM: We're with the MJ Holmes Marty on this -- it's weird, but if we had to do it to tell two Docs apart. . . .-
-M: It's easier if you're closer to our age. It felt a little awkward at first in "Teen Doc," but I managed to get used to it. Can't see calling my own Doc 'Emmett,' though.-
-J: What I'm curious about is why Victoria doesn't call any of the Docs Emmett.-
I do occassionally, especially while writing TeenDoc-related stuffs. However, using the Doc system makes it easier when I have to call for something.
-OD: Additionally, it's a lot harder to say "Doc" in a sexy manner. *tentacles nodnod, making disgusted noises.-
:p
24. Drink
“Why is a raven like a writing desk?”
Marty thought for a long while, sipping his tea -- which he was starting to think was spiked or something, given the circumstances. “Haven’t a clue,” he finally admitted. “What’s the answer?”
“I don’t know myself,” Doc said cheerfully, having some bread and butter.
“Nor I,” George nodded, stirring what seemed to be an ungodly amount of sugar into his tea.
Marty lifted an eyebrow. “Asking a riddle that even you don’t know the answer to? That’s not like you, Doc.”
Doc waved carelessly. “Well, what else am I supposed do to with the Time? We’re not on speaking terms anymore, you know.” He adjusted his bright purple top hat, which had started to fall into his eyes.
“Because of the time machines?” Marty guessed, although he really didn’t understand what Doc was talking about.
“Precisely! Time didn’t like me mucking around in him like I was, so he and I had a terrible quarrel.” Doc sighed, checking his watches. “And now it’s always six o’clock.” He frowned at the left one. “Marty, what day of the month is it?”
Marty took a moment. “The fourth.”
“Two days slow!” Doc glared at George. “I told you that butter wouldn’t suit the works!”
“It was the best butter,” George protested, his rabbit ears waggling madly. “And as we haven’t got any oil here, it was the best we could do.”
“Well, you could have at least used a clean knife to apply it,” Doc grumbled. “No doubt some bread crumbs got in.”
“I’ll wash it then,” George said, taking it off Doc’s wrist and dipping it into his tea.
“I dunno if the sugar will be good for the works either,” Marty said, taking a slice of bread and butter. “So you’re stuck here at six o’clock? Is that why there’s so many places set at the table?”
“Precisely,” Doc grinned. “Since there’s no more time for washing up. If things get dirty, we just change places.” He accepted his tea-soaked watch back from George. “But there is a nice thing about it always being six o’clock -- we can sit and chat for as long as we want, and not worry about the time at all. You don’t come around here no more.”
“What?”
“You don’t come around here no more,” Doc repeated, sounding like Tom Petty. “Whatever you’re looking for -- hey! -- it don’t come around here no more.” George joined in, very off-key. “I’ve given up, stop! I’ve given up, stop!”
Marty blinked. The tea party abruptly changed into his room, with the song coming from above his head. He reached up and shut off his radio, then looked down at the book still clutched in his hand. “Lewis Carroll had to be smoking something when he wrote Alice In Wonderland,” he muttered, putting it on the side table. “At least I got out before the Mad Hatter turned me into a cake.”
-M2: Somebody's been listening to too much Tom Petty.-
I can't help it, I like him! Yesterday I listened to far, far too many repetitions of the song "Don't Come Around Here No More." The video to the song has an Alice In Wonderland theme to it, so I started looking up some Alice stuff on the web for kicks. After discovering the character of the Hatter was based on a man who made some interesting inventions, the image of Doc as the Hatter become solidified in my mind. I chose George for the March Hare just because. A lot of the dialogue is based off the actual scene in the book, just in a different order. And of course I had to reference the Tom Petty song near the end.
-VM: That was a really whacked-out video.-
I've noticed a lot of 80s music videos are, actually. Though I still haven't seen anything that tops Bonnie Taylor's "Total Eclipse of the Heart" yet.
-MF: Yeah, that's the ultimate in crazy music videos.-
And for RPD, check out the
revison_doc update about the FurKin. Not much going on, though I'm planning a sports party for later.-RPD: Any chance of getting at least a little Eureka update today?-
I'll try, though I am thinking of sending April and Dave on a date today, and you know how my computer gets about community lots.
-OD: *tentacles chitter* We thought you were going to replace it?-
It's certainly getting to that point. I just want to get everything with my bank accounts straightened out -- looks like I'm going to be switching banks, and starting up a checking account.
-DW: Hmm, interesting. And what about story organization?-
I should check out the timeline -- hell, I need to add the events of "Strange Bedfellows" to it. I'll do that after Sims. I also need to finish up the page of "The Gift and the Curse."
-OD: And do something about the sprites!-
I know, I know! Now that I've gotten "Marty in Wonderland" out of my system, perhaps I can concentrate on those better.
So yes, off to do lots of stuff. I'll see everyone later.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-09-24 10:53 pm (UTC)Because the notes for which they are noted are not noted for being musical notes.
Or because Edgar Allen Poe wrote on both.
:)
no subject
Date: 2006-09-25 03:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-25 10:17 am (UTC)Great drabbles!
Date: 2006-09-25 02:58 am (UTC)