300 Sips of Liquor
Michael Fulton felt strange as he awakened on the cold, rugged patch of rocky earth - but not as strange as he did when he looked over the outfit he wore... the outfit of a Spartan warrior, straight from the costuming department of the film 300'.
He felt even worse when he saw the other men who had accompanied Daria and her family on the trip - Mack, Q, even Jake, as well as Derek, and his former roommate, and that guy Gerald, who was interested in Quinn's friend Fran - also dressed like Spartans...
... and surrounding them all, were the hordes of the Persian Empire.
Four words came out of his mouth.
"I hated this movie."
A herald stepped forth from the masses.
"Leonidas. My compliments - and congratulations. You surely have turned calamity to victory. Despite your insufferable arrogance, the God King has come to admire Spartan valor and fighting skills. You will make a mighty ally."
Michael turned to see that freaky red-haired guy Daria had gone to high school emerge from the crowd, disfigured and hump-backed, wearing a sad, bejeweled dunce-cap that he must have felt made him look dashing... as if it could...
"Yield, Leonidas!" the freak of nature cried out, his voice pouring from his mouth like maggots being poured from a basin. "Use your reason, think of your men - I beg you!"
The herald turned back to Michael. "Listen to your fellow Greek. He can attest to the divine one's generosity. Despite your several insults, despite your horrid blasphemies, the lord of hosts is prepared to forgive all - And more: to reward your service! You fight for your lands - Keep them! You fight for Sparta - she will be wealthier and more powerful than ever before. You fight for your kingship - you will be proclaimed Warlord of all Greece, answerable only to the one true master of the world.
He paused. "Leonidas. Your victory will be complete - if you but lay down your arms... and kneel to holy Xerxes."
Michael looked past him, past the massed forces, to the shining pyramid upon which sat a gilded throne... and upon that throne, sat Bump - Daria's cat.
He couldn't remember what he had just said, but it infuriated the small black cat; her eyes glowed, and she held her soft, white front paw out as she bellowed, "SLAUGHTER THEM-!"
Michael's skin crawled as the multitude of warriors began to slowly shimmy towards him and the others, hips swaying and thrusting their crotches as a piece of music, coming out of nowhere, began to play...
"Michael - are you okay?"
Michael opened his eyes, and turned to face Daria, who sat on the edge of the bed with a worried expression on her face. "Why were you dreaming about feeding Bump?"
"Hah... I, uh... What?"
Daria reached out to touch his arm. "You were talking in your sleep, about oysters, and Bump waving her paw..."
"Just - just a bad dream," Michael said, sitting up in bed. "I barely even remember it.
The petite, auburn-haired young woman gave him a glance that clearly showed she didn't believe him, and stood up. "Next time, maybe you won't go drinking with the other boys like that."
Watching Daria leave, Michael shook his head. The guys are right. If I'm dreaming about her cat - and worrying about getting the furball mad at me - then I really AM taking this engagement seriously.
As soon as I get back, I'm buying the little beast a salmon of her very own.
He reached for the bottle of water on the table, and drained it down. And why the hell is it that I keep having dreams where Bump's eyes glow like the aliens in 'Stargate SG-1'? I'm definitely NOT going to tell Daria about the one with her and Jane dressed up like Egyptians and not wearing underwear... or how Bump made her pre-chew her salmon...
Thought of his fiancé in filmy Egyptian outfits filling his head, Michael tossed the bottle into the trashcan next to the dresser, and curled back up on the bed.
Minutes later, he was fast asleep.
17 March 2008