Summary: It seemed, as it so often does, a good idea at the time. But there's company for dinner, and Shawn's not exactly sure how he got from point A to point B.
But then eating at Dad's has always been like that.
Awards:
Rated: eT
Categories: Season, Short Characters: Henry, Lassiter, Shawn
Genres: Humor
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 2 Completed: Yes
Word count: 11364 Read: 17373
Published: July 09, 2007 Updated: August 17, 2007
The scene is a large castle. Lightning crashes, thunder shakes the windows, but the thing is silent under the sheets, dead, but then it has never been alive. The machines are alive with power, spitting sparks and acid at the dank walls of stone. A man enters, shuffling slowly, smiling gleefully, and by his hair he's what can only be a grade-A mad scientist. He walks to the thing under the sheets, pulls it back, and it reveals a giant centipede, stitched together at the seams. He cackles, bounds to an unnecessarily large switch on the wall (the shuffling was taking too long), and pulls it down. Sparks fly, lighting crashes, and the thing on the table twitches, shrieks, shuddering to a position, towering high above the mad scientist, pincers slashing as lighting streaks through.
And with a grungy smile, and far too many exclamation points, the mad scientist screams: "The centipede LIVES!!!!"
First off, deMona is a far nicer person than she ought to be. I promised her this story quite a bit earlier. And not just one time--three times, to add insult to injury. But instead of hurling insults and death (I'm not sure how one would hurl such a thing, but I'm sure she could figure it out) at me, she was understanding, kind, and forgiving. I think I could've taken the hurled insults and death easier. So huge thank you, on my part, for being such a good sport about retarded monkey syndrome.
This two-parter, for those of you who don't read the announcements (shame on you *grins*) was a request made by deMona for donating the second largest amount to the forum. Please, send her your thanks for such a great contribution. She's as generous as she is kind.
Finally, this, in her own words (because they amused me) is her request:
"Shawn, Lassie, Henry. Lets pretend Lassie and Henry still go fishing, or whatever, once in a while (and its not altogether impossible- he may have hated being stuck in a boat with him, but he did seem to enjoy Henry's company while they were eating their catch on the porch- we even got a smile out of him, albeit at Shawn's expense "...the raccoon was *stalking* me, Dad")- in any case, Shawn shows up at his dad's looking for a free meal, and ends up stuck at the dinner table with these two. *Loved* the slightly drunken Henry of Scary Sherry.
And if, somehow, Vick could make a small appearance, you would be God (or something slightly less blasphemous), but it's hardly a requirement."
I thought it might be interesting to see her request, and then see how I fill it. I end up running off on a tangent in order to make it a two-parter, but hopefully she--and all the rest of you--will enjoy my wild running-aways.
Enjoy! I had to type half of this under the cover of darkness at my gramma's house. There was an awesome storm raging at the time, and she feared that lightning would strike me through the computer. I braved the lightning, and Gram's wrath (which is both more powerful and frightening) to finish it.
Many bothans died bringing this fanfiction to you.
Disclaimer: T'aint mine.
~~~~~
1. Look Who's Coming For Dinner by centipede [Reviews - 28] 
(3379 words)
Huge thank you to MusicalLuna for coaxing and kicking me out of my slump. For the past month or so I've been certain I'm the most wretched writer in the world. I'm not fishing for compliments when I say this, so please don't assure me that I am a good writer. I know I am, which sounds egotistical (yet there it is for all to see), but there is nothing in the world that can convince a person, when they read over their stuff and see only crap, that it isn't so.
Except, of course, for a swift kick in the pants.
Thanks, Luna.
~~~~~~
2. Saturday Night Out by centipede [Reviews - 33] I was looking through my notebook while working up to the difficult task of motivating myself, sniffing through old stories, rough drafts, and the myriad of notes that decorate my margins, when, much to my stupefication, underneath several notes on the last chapter to "At the Edge of the Glass" is the phrase "Mr. Stripper." It's in my handwriting, much to my chagrin, and I can only imagine my mind was somewhere very far off when my hand, of its own accord, started writing. I'm not precisely certain I want to know exactly where my mind was in order to drive my hand to do such a thing. Then again, most of you have read my other stories. Pointless and slightly disturbing story aside, here is the long-awaited (especially on deMona's part, poor dear) second chapter. This is why I usually complete stories before I post them, which leads me directly to my next note: GBfreak, you're going to be waiting awhile for your story. I've begun planning it (which is half the battle) and will hopefully begin writing it about the time I get back to school. It's going to have an actual plot people! Once it's completely written I'll begin posting. If all goes well, your head will actually explode from its awesomeness. Or something similar. Only, you know, without the disgusting visual of your head literally exploding *grimaces* . Furthermore, quick fishing lesson: If you're using a worm as bait, you generally cast the line into the water and wait. If you're lucky, some poor shmuck is going to swim by and actually believe the thing on the end of the very pointy thing is edible. It's not so much the jabbing the worms with a hook that bothers me as the fact that they frequently fall apart and/or fall off. Then you have to re-stick your worm or dig out another one to try again, and it's a lot of hassle that really never seems to pay out in the end. I prefer using a lure, which requires a little less waiting around and a little more casting. The lure works only when you're reeling because it catches the water and twirls (or moves or whatever depending on your lure), catching the light and, hopefully, a fish's eye. You reel it in, cast it in a slightly different direction, and once it hits the water, immediately begin to reel it in again. End fishing lesson. Oh, and I have no idea if there's any difference when it comes to ocean fishing. I'm more of a lake/stream gal myself. Anyways, thanks once again go to deMona for her generosity and generally charitable qualities :). It's her last review that finally prodded me into finishing up this two-parter. And horrible, horrible thanks go to MusicalLuna for inspiring the bleeding involved in what was supposed to be an entirely gore-free, non-violent two-parter about fishing and family. Go figure. ------ (7985 words)