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tikificTitle: The Further Adventures of Tiny Death Metal Baby Sariel in the Alternate-Alternate Universe (Mythklok Interstitial)
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: What's in a name
Warnings: Slash, AU, OCs, baby puke
Notes: What I'm doing instead of finishing Chapter 40
Somewhere in an alternate universe, far away....
"Ganesh dude. We NEED TEE SHIRTS!" Nathan declared.
Ganesh was playing a cell phone message, typing on his laptop, writing on a white board, stirring his martini, and patting the tiny angel baby slung in his Bjorn, who emitted a rather non-angelic belch in response.
"Well, yes, you fellows are correct, however, do you think it might be in our best interst to settle on a name for our band before we go to the printers?"
"WE HAVE A NAME!" Nathan grumbled.
"Er, yes, and what would that name be?"
"Death Tits!" "Frog Balls!" "Fleetwood Mac!" "Murder Kill!" came a number or voices.
"The William Murderfasche Experiensche featuring Schkwischgaar Schkwigelf and Other Schpecial Friendsch."
All turned to glare William Murderface.
"I ams likes dat ones maybes," Skwisgaar agreed. All turned to glare at him instead.
"I'll tell you what," Ganesh suggested, "why don't we go to my creative studio?"
"YOU GOT A CREATIVE STUDIO! Because, dude, that's just what we need for our CREATIVE ENERGIES!" Nathan shouted. "Is there booze?"
Ganesh, cradling the silvery baby, led them to a room down the hallway. It had bright.colorful decorations, like rainbows and ponies and rainbow ponies, pasted on the wall, and a big plastic mat covering the floor.
"Here we are," Ganesh told them, emptying a small plastic basket full of wooden building blocks out onto the mat. "You fellows find me something. The ideal would be eight letters or fewer."
"Wowee!" squealed Toki, who was already on the mat, along with Pickles. "Can we have a little bear in the name? This is really cool!" he asked, holding up a block to the side with a tiny cartoon bear.
"Er, it would be best to stick to letters. English letters," Ganesh suggested. "I'll give you twenty minutes," he said, turning to go.
"Whoa! Are you gonna help us, baby dood?" Pickles asked. The other band mates turned to see baby Sariel, who was seated in the middle of the floor, cheerfully flap his little downy wings.
"I don't remember him leaving that baby dude on the floor like that, isn't that kind of creepy?" Nathan demanded, attempting to take a seat in much too small plastic chair next to Skwisgaar, who was also squeezed into a munchkin-sized chair, lazily fingering his Gibson. Unfortunately, the seat had only room for one of Nathan's two ass cheeks, so when he tried to smash the other into it, the entire thing collapsed, along with him, to the floor.
"Ow!" said Nathan. "I HURT MY ASS!"
"Is thisch really a baby?" Murderface growled, leaning close to the infant. "It'sch got wingsh!"
"Of course it's got wings, dood! Dat's how dey grow!" Pickles attested.
"Doesh it fly? I could usche it for schkeet schooting," Murderface grumbled, fingering his gold-plated .45.
"Glarrrb!" trilled the angel baby.
"Eeeeeeee!" squealed Murderface, his voice rising at least three octaves when confronted with a front full of baby spew. He ran screaming from the room.
"Aw! Did yoo like playing with Unky Murderface?" Pickles cooed. "Oh, hey, what did yoo doo here?" Pickles hoisted the tiny angel baby to reveal a little pile of carefully stacked blocks.
"DETH KLOK?" asked Nathan. "Angel baby dude, this is awesome, but you need to learn to SPELL! That's not how you spell cock!"
"Don't it have a C in it dood?" Pickles asked.
"I think it has a bunch of C's. And MAYBE A Q."
"Death quack?" asked Toki.
"Ferdarecurditride," the tiny angel sighed.
"Oh, there you are! I wondered where you'd gotten to!" said Ganesh, who had just breezed back into the room. "Such a mischievous little sort!" he said, seizing baby Sariel.
"You know your baby dude is pretty metal with the wings and shit but we think he's a little on the slow side," Nathan suggested, pointing to the pile of block letters.
"Oh, DETH KLOK is this what we've decided," asked Ganesh.
"Uhhhhhh...." said Nathan.
"Pffft," said Skwisgaar.
"Doooooood," said Pickles.
"Fine!" enthused Ganesh. "We shall have it printed on tee shirts immediately!"
"Bredanbudder," said the little angel dude.
"What did you say?" Ganesh asked.
"I t'ink he said 'fadder!'" Pickles told him.
"Well," Ganesh told the baby, who was flapping its wings in a skeptical manner, "that is awfully sweet, although, not quite the relationship I had ultimatley envisioned...." and with that he strode out down the hall.
"How do you know so much about babies, Pickles?" Toki asked.
"Oh, I was once a little baby dood! Did I tell yoo?"
"Uhhhhh....." said Toki.
"Scho," said Murderface, who was soaked pretty much from head to toe, "Did we deschide on a name?"
"Da Williams Murderfaces Experiences," Skwisgaar snickered.
"Really?"
"No," said Nathan.
"Wanna play with blocks?" Toki asked brightly.
"Yeah, OK, why not?" grumbled Murderface, taking a seat on the mat. "Hey, thisch bear is cool. Could we put it in the name?"
"Yoo'd have to ask da baby dood," Pickles suggested.
"I'd rather not," Murderface grumbled, moodily spelling out PLANET PISSCH.
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: What's in a name
Warnings: Slash, AU, OCs, baby puke
Notes: What I'm doing instead of finishing Chapter 40
Somewhere in an alternate universe, far away....
"Ganesh dude. We NEED TEE SHIRTS!" Nathan declared.
Ganesh was playing a cell phone message, typing on his laptop, writing on a white board, stirring his martini, and patting the tiny angel baby slung in his Bjorn, who emitted a rather non-angelic belch in response.
"Well, yes, you fellows are correct, however, do you think it might be in our best interst to settle on a name for our band before we go to the printers?"
"WE HAVE A NAME!" Nathan grumbled.
"Er, yes, and what would that name be?"
"Death Tits!" "Frog Balls!" "Fleetwood Mac!" "Murder Kill!" came a number or voices.
"The William Murderfasche Experiensche featuring Schkwischgaar Schkwigelf and Other Schpecial Friendsch."
All turned to glare William Murderface.
"I ams likes dat ones maybes," Skwisgaar agreed. All turned to glare at him instead.
"I'll tell you what," Ganesh suggested, "why don't we go to my creative studio?"
"YOU GOT A CREATIVE STUDIO! Because, dude, that's just what we need for our CREATIVE ENERGIES!" Nathan shouted. "Is there booze?"
Ganesh, cradling the silvery baby, led them to a room down the hallway. It had bright.colorful decorations, like rainbows and ponies and rainbow ponies, pasted on the wall, and a big plastic mat covering the floor.
"Here we are," Ganesh told them, emptying a small plastic basket full of wooden building blocks out onto the mat. "You fellows find me something. The ideal would be eight letters or fewer."
"Wowee!" squealed Toki, who was already on the mat, along with Pickles. "Can we have a little bear in the name? This is really cool!" he asked, holding up a block to the side with a tiny cartoon bear.
"Er, it would be best to stick to letters. English letters," Ganesh suggested. "I'll give you twenty minutes," he said, turning to go.
"Whoa! Are you gonna help us, baby dood?" Pickles asked. The other band mates turned to see baby Sariel, who was seated in the middle of the floor, cheerfully flap his little downy wings.
"I don't remember him leaving that baby dude on the floor like that, isn't that kind of creepy?" Nathan demanded, attempting to take a seat in much too small plastic chair next to Skwisgaar, who was also squeezed into a munchkin-sized chair, lazily fingering his Gibson. Unfortunately, the seat had only room for one of Nathan's two ass cheeks, so when he tried to smash the other into it, the entire thing collapsed, along with him, to the floor.
"Ow!" said Nathan. "I HURT MY ASS!"
"Is thisch really a baby?" Murderface growled, leaning close to the infant. "It'sch got wingsh!"
"Of course it's got wings, dood! Dat's how dey grow!" Pickles attested.
"Doesh it fly? I could usche it for schkeet schooting," Murderface grumbled, fingering his gold-plated .45.
"Glarrrb!" trilled the angel baby.
"Eeeeeeee!" squealed Murderface, his voice rising at least three octaves when confronted with a front full of baby spew. He ran screaming from the room.
"Aw! Did yoo like playing with Unky Murderface?" Pickles cooed. "Oh, hey, what did yoo doo here?" Pickles hoisted the tiny angel baby to reveal a little pile of carefully stacked blocks.
"DETH KLOK?" asked Nathan. "Angel baby dude, this is awesome, but you need to learn to SPELL! That's not how you spell cock!"
"Don't it have a C in it dood?" Pickles asked.
"I think it has a bunch of C's. And MAYBE A Q."
"Death quack?" asked Toki.
"Ferdarecurditride," the tiny angel sighed.
"Oh, there you are! I wondered where you'd gotten to!" said Ganesh, who had just breezed back into the room. "Such a mischievous little sort!" he said, seizing baby Sariel.
"You know your baby dude is pretty metal with the wings and shit but we think he's a little on the slow side," Nathan suggested, pointing to the pile of block letters.
"Oh, DETH KLOK is this what we've decided," asked Ganesh.
"Uhhhhhh...." said Nathan.
"Pffft," said Skwisgaar.
"Doooooood," said Pickles.
"Fine!" enthused Ganesh. "We shall have it printed on tee shirts immediately!"
"Bredanbudder," said the little angel dude.
"What did you say?" Ganesh asked.
"I t'ink he said 'fadder!'" Pickles told him.
"Well," Ganesh told the baby, who was flapping its wings in a skeptical manner, "that is awfully sweet, although, not quite the relationship I had ultimatley envisioned...." and with that he strode out down the hall.
"How do you know so much about babies, Pickles?" Toki asked.
"Oh, I was once a little baby dood! Did I tell yoo?"
"Uhhhhh....." said Toki.
"Scho," said Murderface, who was soaked pretty much from head to toe, "Did we deschide on a name?"
"Da Williams Murderfaces Experiences," Skwisgaar snickered.
"Really?"
"No," said Nathan.
"Wanna play with blocks?" Toki asked brightly.
"Yeah, OK, why not?" grumbled Murderface, taking a seat on the mat. "Hey, thisch bear is cool. Could we put it in the name?"
"Yoo'd have to ask da baby dood," Pickles suggested.
"I'd rather not," Murderface grumbled, moodily spelling out PLANET PISSCH.
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Date: 2011-03-23 02:45 am (UTC)Ah gahd. Roger Rabbit--actually Baby Herman--just popped into my head. "My problem is I gotta 50-year-old lust an' a three-year-old dinky."
Someone totally needs to draw a fat li'l angel baby chewing on Ganesh's hair.