TITLE: Carnivale!
AUTHOR: Michael J. Gallagher ( mikejoe@odyssey.net )
SYNOPSIS: Answer to SS challenge for a "fun" fic: Presenting the two happiest drunks in the Known Worlds.
CHARACTERS: That would give it away, wouldn't it?
DISCLAIMER: Tribune owns GRA, but I would appreicate it if you asked first before archiving this.
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"Salud Commarade!" Dylan shouted, lifting his (now not quite full) cane of Caribou as he and Harper headed down the crowded, narrow streets of New Quebec City in a more-or-less straight line. His breath made moisture in the cold, winter air, and both his and Harper's cheeks were red.
Caribou keeps you warm.
"Yeah, Salood," Harper slurred. "Saloo?? Salll-OOOD!"
"Gah-zun-tite!" Dylan said. They both laughed.
"Man ... " Harper said. "Thiss was a good idea, Bahss. I mean, getting plastered while freezing to death. Din't think they went together."
"Ah, you shoulda seen the REAL winter carnival in Quebec City on Old Earth. Now THAT was a blast!"
"I think that's what happened to Quebec City. Or was it Montreal? Keep gettin' 'em mixed up." Harper hiccupped. "Scue me."
"Harper, please -- I prefer women."
"Same here, boss. Can't get enough of them. To women!"
"To women! Salud!"
"Saloo!"
They drank from their canes.
"Say, 'Arper," Dylan said. "Speakin' of women, where in the name of the Vedran Empress' Right Nostril did you get Rommie's ... thing?"
"What thing, Bahss?"
"Y'know, the thing, down THERE. The girl thing."
"Dylan," Harper said carefully. "We are both men of the world. We have been ah-round. It's perfectly ok for two grown men to say ... thing."
"Yeah, the thing. So?"
"I found it."
"No!"
"Yes! That drift with the kids? When I scavenged the parts for Rommie, I also glommed up some medical supplies. There was this BUHHHRRRRP! -- sorry -- BIG box earmarked for some Lancer regiment and I thought it was like first aid kits. It was loaded with ... things. Modularconstruction, self-contained driving software and behavioral peramaters for the personality matrix -- "
"What?"
"So she moans when she's supposed to."
"Oh. Does she?"
"I dunno. Does she?"
"No idea."
"Crap. I can live without her sleepin' with me, but I gotta know if the stupid thing works! Ya gotta do 'er, Dylan."
"I'll take it under advisement. Which unit?" Dylan asked.
"Hmm?" Harper said.
"The Lancer regiment that was to get the Things. Which one was it?"
"I dunno. Crap, it was a year ago Boss. We been in and out of fights and I been infected by Magog Larvae and stuff."
"Wait a minute, where was that Guard Station ... was it the 405th? Does that sound about right?"
"ItoldyaDylan, I forgot."
"I bet it was the 405th, Harper. Muldoon's Marauders. The regiment that would single-handedly prove cross-species sex could lead to offspring or die trying." Dylan smiled. "Really a great bunch of guys, though. I used to go drinkin' with 'em."
"What happened?"
"Sara."
"Oh."
"So, you have more than one?"
"What, another Sara?"
"Another thing for Rommie in case the current thing breaks or something."
"I gots twenty-five of them, Dylan."
"Really? Then why in the name of Admiral Stark's Bad Back didn't you build another one for yourself?"
"Another what?"
"Another life-sized love doll, you idjit! That's why you built Rommie in the first place, right? So build another one that looks just like her and program it to jump your bones and that's that."
"But it wouldn't be the same Dylan. I don't want to have SEX with her, I want to have sex with HER. You know what I mean?"
"Yeah, I know."
"And she doesn't want me ... " Harper shrugged.
"Well, she likes you," Dylan said. "Believe you me, I swear by the Vedran Crown Prince's Kneecap, she has to like you."
"You figure?"
"You don't?"
"Well ..... "
"Harper, the last crew man -- and of course, it was a man -- who called her 'Rom Doll' -- BHURP! -- sorry -- had the honor of being dressed down in front of his mates by a hologram. She was brutal. I reprimanded the poor sap for inapppp .... inapppp .... saying the wrong thing, but I felt like I was commuting his sentence. First time I heard you say it, I thought she was going to knock your block off, but no, she letsya call her 'Rom Doll.'" Dylan shrugged. "'Course, she could be saving it all for when you accidentally get blown out an airlock after shooting yourself from a thousand yards, but maybe she likes ya."
"Huh." Harper belched again.
"I think you're drunk," Dylan said, almost weaving into Harper.
"I hope I am," Harper said, not much steadier on his feet.
"You shouldn't be drunk. Doesn't that mess with the medicine?"
"Yeah, but ... Dylan, it's weird, the magog larvae are doin' somethin', but it doesn't hurt. I think they're drunk, too."
"They are ... THAT'S IT! I have my brilliant plan for defeating the Magog. We flood the world ship with booze. They drink their way outand become alcoholics, and we get them to promise not to kill anybody in exchange for free drinks in any of the Known World's fine establishments."
Harper was plastered enough to be awestruck. "Wow. You think that'll work?"
"No. Good idea, though. Hey, there's our favorite Thing Girl now!"
They'd got to the end of the street and found Rommie and Tyr waiting for them, arms folded.
"Hi honey," Dylan said. "I found the enginnn ... enginnn ... the guy who fixes things."
"Rom Doll!" Harper said. "Kiss me!"
Rommie wouldn't have kissed him anyway, and his breath only reinforced her decision. She didn't shove Harper away hard, but it was enough for her to knock him off his feet.
"Rommie won't kiss me?" Harper said. "She doesn't love me!"
"Nah, she's playing hard to get," Dylan encouraged. "Don'tworryaboutit."
"Ok." Harper's good mood couldn't have come back quicker if he'd thrown a switch. Somehow, Dylan helped him up.
"Pathetic," Tyr said. "For this, we are delayed three hours!"
"Time funs when you're having flies," Dylan and Harper said together, and laughed.
"Well, at least he wasn't carousing with the 405th Lancer Regiment," Rommie said. "That was unbelievable."
"I'll have you know I resemble that remark," Dylan said as he and Harper weaved down the street after Tyr and Rommie.
THE END
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