A Daria Quickfic by Brother Grimace
"Your million-dollar question: in the 'Power Rangers' franchise of children's shows, which season of the show does NOT have the word 'Go' as part of the theme song?"
Alfred Phelps glared over his glasses as he lowered his class of lemon tea. "Am I to believe that, somehow, that question just magically appeared on the screen?"
Kyle Armalin shrugged. "If you want to blame someone, blame O'Neill. He downloaded the latest module this afternoon."
"Of course." He put nothing past the congenitally sneaky and thoroughly uncouth Armalin... psychology, indeed! A soft field if ever there was one; certainly not an area where a man with a true capacity for intellectual growth would soil his hands...
"A - Time Force; B - Ninja Storm; C - Dino Thunder, and D - Lightspeed Rescue."
"The fact that that series managed to last so long only goes to prove that I have much to do in teaching the students here. Whatever happened to the days of public television at least attempting to provide a semblance of learning onscreen?"
"Shut up and answer the question, Phelps," Anthony DeMartino growled, slamming a shot of Remy Martin.
The fourth at the table, Timothy O'Neill, simply sipped his Magna-Blast Cola (the ultra-caffinated version of Ultra Cola) with extra ice and watched the others play Who Wants To Be A Millionaire - The Home Version. Coming here to General Buck's Country Bunker with the others for drinks on Friday afternoons always made him nervous, and did Alfred and Kyle always have to be so... so competitive...?
"Sucks not being an expert on American pop culture, hmn, RoboFop?"
"Kyleton, please. The only difference between America and the blandest of yogurt is that yogurt has an active culture."
"Fine. Yours is the superior intellect. Answer the question."
The seconds ticked away.
Kyle hit a tiny switch on the game console, and two answers disappeared off the screen of the game. "Ninja Storm, and Dino Thunder."
Kyle laughed as he took a long pull of his frosted mug of Samuel Adams, but the smile disappeared as Alfred looked him directly in the eye and said, "Dino Thunder."
Anthony burst out in laughter, and even Timothy couldn't hide a slight smile at the look on Kyle's face. "How - I thought - How did you do that?"
"Like your former colleagues in the U.S. Marines... I improvised. I adapted. I overcame."
"I smell a rat."
"I smell the wonderful scents of a lovely dinner at Chez Pierre, which I'm so glad to know that you'll be responsible for," Alfred smiled, scooping the pile of cash towards him. "When will you understand that I will always be several steps ahead of you, Kyleton?"
"One win, and he carries himself like he's the 'Last Dragon', Kyle huffed. "I'm going to get another beer."
Walking across the bar, he saw the boys of Mystic Spiral on stage, with Trent Lane mangling music as he played something that night have been a ballad...
Trent blinked as Kyle walked upon stage to the protests of several young women, took his guitar, and smashed it against a wall! "Sorry..." he said, putting the shattered instrument back into Trent's hands, and slipping several bills into the pocket of his t-shirt.
Kyle returned to the table, where the others looked at him with annoyance. "Really, Kyleton. You need to find a woman and do something about that aggression you always seem to possess."
"Physician, heal thyself. No one's got a broomstick further 'up his bum' than you do!"
"Well, now that you two have had your little mental butting of horns, can we play a real game?" Anthony shuffled the deck of cards, and started to deal. "The game is poker. Nothing wild, two-dollar ante."
Anthony smiled as he watched Timothy pick up his cards. Between that card-counting Brit and the aggressive way Kyle plays, this should be an interesting game...
Now, for a little extra fun...
"So, Timothy - what's Barch like in the sack?"
The sudden shower of ice and soda perked Anthony up right away. Everyone's ready to play, now. Game on...!
21 May 2007