*DIng* Fics are Up!
location: Where Else?
mood: 
accomplished
accomplishedThis year, I got four responses, which is up from three last year. I figure at this rate, I'll be swamped by the 2037 version of this. I think I got a good bunch of stories out of the batch, and I'm happy to present them here all at once for all to peruse, as they were originally presented with only a couple of typos corrected.
There will be an announcement this weekend, BTw, for anyone interested in high quality fiction. Or, barring that, mine.
Incidentally, the challenge is still open to any and all comers - I've written a grand total of 12 stories out of a total of (furious calculations) 700 possible combos, so if anyone wants to review the list in the original post, you're more than welcome to slam me with your ideas!
Our first story is from former RATMM FAQ-Master
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
ratmmjess, who is today celebrating a highly bibliocentric and murinophilic (or bibliophilic and murinocentric) anniversary with aliciag. confetti########################################
Title: The Chosen Little One
Author: Bill Livingston
Rating: (G)
Size: Double Drabble
Challenge: Naughty Buffy
Summary: Dr. Spock was never like this
Disclaimer: All Characters owned by Joss W & Mutant Enemy. Grrr. Arrgh.
THE CHOSEN LITTLE ONE
By Bill Livingston
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
They collapsed on the couch, utterly exhausted. "My God," Rupert moaned. "Was she this - ill-behaved - the first time?"
"A handful," Joyce admitted. "But nothing like this!" She pierced him with that glare he'd come to fear only slightly less than rampaging vampires. "Now explain this again, Rupert."
"Well," Giles gulped, fiddling with his glasses, "The warlock tried reverting her to before her Slayer abilities manifested in the hopes of removing them - but to no avail. Willow should be able..."
"Success!" Willow exclaimed, bursting in the door. "We can reverse - whoa!"
"Discipline problems?" Xander asked, taking in the ruined den.
Joyce nodded. "You could say..."
Suddenly, a cherubic-looking toddler bounded downstairs, a stuffed pig clutched in one hand, a gruesome head in the other.
"I madesa bad monster dead," she giggled.
Despite her fatigue, Joyce was on her feet immediately, all stern parental authority. "Buffy Anne Summers, where did you get that?"
"I go out and done it," Buffy admitted.
"I told you to stay in this house. Plus, you're tracking demonic blood all over the carpet. Now - go to your room!"
Buffy's babyish face scrunched up into a pouty scowl.
"Here it comes," muttered Giles.
She screeched one word. "NnnnnnNNNNOOOO!!!"
########################################
scarfman, who writes some pretty darn good fiction, when he's not busy drawing either triangle-ized fanfiction comics or his daily comic about the multi-unversal King Arthur, asked for this little tale.########################################
Title: Breathing Room
Author: Bill Livingston
Rating: (G)
Size: Drabble
Challenge: Swimming-in-the-buff Stargate SG-1
Summary: Carter Condemns her Current Condition
Disclaimer: All Characters owned by MGM & the SciFi Channel. IRIS!!!!
BREATHING ROOM
By Bill Livingston
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
"Tell me you can remove them," Carter pleaded as she bobbed naked in the tank.
Frazier sighed, peering again at the pulsing gills on Carter's neck. "Sorry, Sam, but without knowing how the P9M-552ers did this to you, I can't risk it."
"But I can't live like this!"
"You can't live any other way at the moment. Unless you stay completely submerged and moving 98% of the time, you'll asphyxiate."
"And no uniform?" Sam asked morosely.
"No nothing - it'd inhibit circulation. Think of yourself as - a mermaid."
"At least mermaids get clamshell bras," Carter muttered, ducking beneath the surface.
########################################
cocoajava had no idea what she was getting into when she asked for this. Or maybe she did, which is even scarier!########################################
Title: Zaphod's Syndrome
Author: Bill Livingston
Rating: (G)
Size: Double Drabble
Challenge: Poorly Sick and Dying Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
Summary: Poor, Poor Zaphod
Disclaimer: All Characters owned by the BBC and DNA and other Acronymy Acronyms.
ZAPHOD'S SYNDROME
By Bill Livingston
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Ripe tangerines, Arthur Dent thought. That's what Zaphod Bebbelebrox's skin currently reminded him of. "And you've no idea what happened to him?"
"Nope," replied Ford Prefect. "We stayed up kinda late, slugging back Gargle Blasters until we passed out. That's how he was when I woke up."
"I wonder if that's what did it," Arthur mused. He leaned in to examine the rogue Galactic President's prone form. Suddenly, there was a deep rumbling sound somewhere within Zaphod's torso.
The Hitchhiker's Guide states: It's a popular and important fact that Zaphod's Syndrome is a very rare disease, named for the only person so far with a recorded case. The result of consuming far too many Pan-Galactic Gargle Blasters far too fast, it causes the skin to assume the coloration of overripe grapefruit (although the less observant will say ripe tangerines) and produces symptoms closely approximating death. It lasts until the victim eliminates the excess effluvia, via a particularly disgusting reverse peristalsis.
"Zaphod! Man, are you okay?"
"Whattaya mean, Ford old boy? I'm as hoopy a frood as ever!"
Arthur just made a pathetic mewling sound.
"Hey, Earthman, what's that nasty goop you're covered in? Good job you've got a towel, eh?"
########################################
And finally,
gypsyjr asked for "Caring MST3K", which seems enough like an oxymoron to be mind-bogglingly intriguing.########################################
Title: Those Special Parts
Author: Bill Livingston
Rating: (G)
Size: Double Drabble
Challenge: Caring MST3K
Summary: Mike's really down in the dumps - can anything cheer him up?
Warning: Starts up a little darker than most MST stuff
Disclaimer: All Characters owned by Best Brains Inc. Still playing ringtoss with your soul.
THOSE SPECIAL PARTS
By Bill Livingston
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Mike Nelson sighed as his cabin door slid closed. His mind was mercifully blank - despite stealing two hours of his life, he couldn't have described a thing about the movie he and his robot pals just endured.
Pals. Nelson snorted as he considered the word. Maybe he was closer to Crow and Tom than any of his human buddies - but that wasn't so much a testimony to that particular friendship as to the shallowness of the others. The way the bots treated him, he was fairly sure they didn't respect him, and sometimes he wasn't even sure they liked him all that much.
So here he was, today of all days, stuck on a satellite, forced to endure the dregs of the entertainment industry, abused (not by a mad scientist, but a mad scientist's mother), ceaselessly derided by two tiny mechanical brats...
That was when he spotted the box on his bed. Curious, he opened it to find a small cake with a note attached.
Happy Birthday, ya big lug
Tom, Crow & Gypsy
Mike couldn't help but smile - he knew whose idea this had been. "Thanks, Gypsy," he said to the air, "You really are a pal!"
And I still love mine, even though it's gross. I'd hug it, but ewww, I've already showered.