Blame Kaie. His 'in the hallway' stuff inspired this. As well as boredom and writers block. *sighs* I was going to be good and work on the long stuff,but noooo. My Muse decided that this was necessary. So. On with the randomness.

Scene: In a galaxy far, far away...

Keith: I don't get it. When Kaie does this, we get a hallway. When Todesengel does this he starts going off about Star Wars.

Pidge: Would you rather he do something with Monty Python?

Hunk: Besides. It's sort of appropriate, ne? You know, what with Voltron and Star Wars both being set in space.

Pidge: Understandable, but I'd still like to know where, exactly, we are. I mean, it says we're in space, but if we really were, then we get into the complication of the effects of being in space without protective suits; one leak and BOOM! You're being sent home in a doggie bag.

Keith: Please don't give him any ideas.

Hunk: Better than spontaneous combustion, I would think. What's worse, having your insides swell up to the point where you pop like a balloon, or suddenly bursting into flames for no apparent reason?

Keith: Quite frankly, I'd prefer not to find out.

Hunk: Than you probably should call in sick for the next few fics.

Keith: Why? What do you know? Tell me, damn it!

Pidge: Hey, listen to this: "What you will need: 1) a first aid kit, if available--"

Keith: And of course there won't be one.

Pidge: Of course. "2) a razor blade or very sharp knife. 3) a straw (two would be better) or a ballpoint pen with he inside removed. There will not be time for sterilization of your tools, so do not bother; infection is the least of your worries at this point"

Keith: Why do I suddenly feel very afraid?

Hunk: What, exactly, was that for Pidge?

Pidge: A tracheotomy.

Keith: Knew it. So, do you think he's going to put that in Broken Wings, or just write a totally new fic about it?

Pidge: I must say that you're taking this with great aplomb.

Keith: Well, I figure that nothing I can say will change his mind so...Hey, were's Lance?

Hunk: Todesengel's was going to do a Lance/Sven, but Lotor kept butting in. So, this will either be a threesome, or that Lotor/Sven thing that keeps bouncing around his head.

Keith: Well, better them than me.

Pidge: Don't worry, I don't think that you'll be tortured for awhile.

Keith: Oh?

Hunk: What about Broken Wings? Or his plans for Jiating? And those Songfics he was planning? And that cop thing? I wanted to do the cop thing.

Pidge: He watched the FAKE video again.

[collective wince]

Keith: Looks like that cross over is still on. I still don't see what this has to do with me not being tortured, though.

Pidge: Two reasons. One, it's going to be a parody, so the worst that happens to you is a couple of cuts; Lance is the one who gets really tortured. Two, he's decided he wants to write FAKE fics. Or at least, some more non-Voltron fics.

Keith: Oh yeah. Like he knows the FAKE fandom well enough to write about it.

Hunk: Has that ever stopped him before?

Keith:...No. *brightens* Well, at least I get a vacation. [pause] Wait, why is he torturing Lance? I thought that he liked Lance.

Hunk: Nope. Just Lance's jacket. And then he got his own.

[Lance bursts into the...space, grinning maniacally]

Lance: I've done it! I've finally figured out a way to make the pain end!

Keith: How?

Lance: Simple. We burn his books. No more Joyce. No more 'Art of War'. No more Survival Guide. No more 'Ishamael' convincing him to kill us all off to help stem the population growth. No more Medical Dictionary! We burn them all! Burn! Burn!

Keith: Um, Lance? That's only going to really piss him off. And when he gets pissed off, things don't go well for us. I mean, he wrote Downtime when he was pissed off, and you saw how that turned out.

Lance: Oh yeah. 'Scuse me. I have to go put a fire out now. [dashes off]

[Sven and Lotor enter. Sven is wiping his mouth]

Sven: You need to look into breath mints. Desperately.

Lotor: Is it my fault that we live in such primitive conditions that I can't find a toothbrush?

Sven: We're anime characters. We don't need toothbrushes.

Lotor: Then we shouldn't need breath mints either. [to the others] He wants you guys.

Keith: *wary* Why?

[BAMF]

Chibi-Keith: Never mind.

End

---------------------------------

Lance: That was bad, even for you.

Todesengel: Why thank you.

Keith: It wasn't a complement.

Todesengel: Well, I'm going to pretend that it was *sticks out tongue* So, anybody feel like giving me feedback yet? Hmm? Pretty please?

Keith: He's a feedback--

Lance: Don't say it.

Keith: *glares* I was going to say prostitute.

Lance: But aren't prostitutes normally the ones getting paid for their, uh, 'services'?

Keith: Oh yeah.

Todesengel: If you're quite done discussing my sexual liberation--

Keith: Sexual liberation? What liberation? You're the most frustrated person on the face of the planet.

Lance: We get more action than you do and we're only fragments of you imagination!

Todesengel: You know, it's comments like that that make it so much fun to hurt you.

-Todesengel (who offers his most humble apologies for submitting the reader to this random drivel).


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