2.3 Mun Prompt: the_bigshow
crossposted from enjoythe_ride.
Just one mun prompt, this time, and it’s a doozy. Think about all your muses in your head. Take two of them. Now…take something from one, and give it to the other. It can be anything. Money. Job. Spouse/lover. Child. Car. Clothes. Life. Music. House. Looks. Be as silly or as serious as you want, but take something from one of your muses and give it to another muse for one day. Then, switch and take something from the muse who took before, and give it to the other. Write it out. Have a lot of fun with the war in your brain.
For all intents and purposes of this excerise, we’re involving Bela (enjoythe_ride), obviously, and because my brain doesn’t feel like working with the crack today, Dean Winchester (dean_w). “Me,” of course, is myself. Please note that Dean works best when I’m running on five hours sleep. It’s ugly and unfair, but that’s the way he is.
Anyway.
Me: Oh, Lord. Here we go.
Bela: Do we have to do this?
Dean: Yes.
Bela: I wasn’t talking to you.
Dean: I know you weren’t. But I was answering the question anyway. Because I knew the answer.
Bela: That’s a rare event, isn’t it?
Dean: *glare* AND. I was here first.
Bela: *eyeroll*
Dean: I hate her. Why’d you ever pick her up anyway?
Me: *facepalm*
Dean: I should probably introduce myself to the viewing population. Since some of these people haven’t seen me before. Ya know, just so that they have a clear depiction of who was here first.
Bela: That most certainly isn’t necessary. I think they know you are, Dean. Some of them have talked with another you. In fact, some of them are you.
Dean: I wasn’t talking to you, bitch. I was talking to her. *points to Emily*
Me: Be my guest.
Bela: You’ve got to be joking.
Me: *shrugs* Fine by me. Ups my word count.
Dean: *is totally gloating*
Bela: *an eyeroll, slightly more dramatic than the last*
Me: *knows her muses are giant two year-olds*
Dean: *gives the viewing audience his best winning smile* Hi. I’m Dean Winchester. You may know me from the hit CW drama “Supernatural.” I’m an Aquarius, and I like guns, fast cars, heavy metal and pretty girls, and ladies? I happen to be single.
Bela: Until your deal runs out and you die.
Dean: *glare* Was anyone asking you?
Bela: *again, with the eyerolling*
Dean: Some of you may also know me from over at Dramatic Muses, where me and my baby brother, Sam, were kicking some cylon ass as we tried to save President Laura Roslin from a fate worse than death. And, yes-I was awesome.
Bela: Oh, please, you never even faced a cylon. There wasn’t even a cylon in the game.
Dean: Yes, there was. The hotass blonde one.
Bela: That was later, after the community had closed. And you didn’t even interact with her-she was in Sam’s head, not yours.
Dean: Do you mind? I’m trying to properly introduce myself here.
Bela: Whatever.
Dean: Besides, how do you know, anyway? You weren’t even around.
Bela: I hear things.
Dean: *turns on Emily* Did you tell her that?
Me: Dean, I’m a mindless drone. You speak, I type. That’s how it works.
Dean: Uh-huh.
Me: Please finish introducing yourself, so we can get on with this.
Dean: Right-I would also like to point out that contrary to popular belief, I was actually here before Bela. She came later, I was here first. My ‘mindless drone’ as she likes to call herself, claims that I’m not around so much anymore because I’m just too popular a guy, and everyone wants to write me. But I’d like to point out that she’s a member of several communities where more than one of a character is allowed, and there are, in fact, open slots for me. So I think it’s because she’s just lazy.
Me: Dean-do you want my head to explode?
Dean: No.
Me: Then you can wait. I hate to tell you, hun, but school is more important than you.
Dean: But-I’m dying.
Me: I’m sorry, but at the moment, I really don’t feel bad about that.
Dean: You suck. Out loud. In bright colors.
Me: I know. Anyway, can we get on with this now?
Bela: Yes, please. Can we?
Dean: Fine.
Me: Alright. Since Bela already has the Colt, I think it’s fair to say that she had something of yours, and all that’s left is to give Dean something of Bela’s, yes?
Dean: Yes.
Bela: No.
Me: Too bad.
Dean: *totally gloats again*
Bela: *pouts*
Dean: *rubs his hands together* So what do I get?
Me: I was thinking Bela’s money.
Bela: WHAT?!?!?
Dean: Sweet! And I get to spend it however I want?
Me: That’s the idea.
Dean: Vegas, here I come!
Bela: *desperate face* All of it!?!
Me: Yup.
Bela: That can’t possibly be an even trade.
Dean: Prompt doesn’t say anything about the trade having to be even.
Bela: If he gets all my money, I want the car too.
Dean: HELL FUCKIN’ NO.
Bela: Oh, please-I won’t destroy it.
Dean: YOU KEEP YOUR SLUTTY THIEVING HANDS OFF MY CAR.
Bela: It’s just a car, Dean.
Dean: *cocks a shotgun* Can I shoot her?
Me: *to Dean* No. *to Bela* You can’t have the car.
Bela: Why not?
Me: Because Dean will have a heart attack. The point of the prompt is to have you fighting, not one of you dead.
Bela: It’s still not nearly a even trade.
Me: She does have a valid point.
Dean: She does?!?
Me: Dean, what else would you give Bela to even this up?
Dean: I’m not giving her shit. She stole the damn gun!
Bela: Not for the purposes of this, I didn’t.
Dean: Yes, but she also owes us forty-six thousand dollars.
Bela: Twenty-six thousand.
Dean: What?!?
Bela: Twenty grand for saving my life, remember?
Dean: So doesn’t count.
Bela: *eyeroll* Fine.
Dean: So I think this is a perfectly even trade to me.
Bela: *pouts*
Dean: *far too proud of himself* Now, if you’ll excuse me-I’ll be at the craps table.
Me: Thank God.
Bela: … I’m going to get that money back? Right?
Me: *innocent shrug*
Bela: *glare*
963 words
Just one mun prompt, this time, and it’s a doozy. Think about all your muses in your head. Take two of them. Now…take something from one, and give it to the other. It can be anything. Money. Job. Spouse/lover. Child. Car. Clothes. Life. Music. House. Looks. Be as silly or as serious as you want, but take something from one of your muses and give it to another muse for one day. Then, switch and take something from the muse who took before, and give it to the other. Write it out. Have a lot of fun with the war in your brain.
For all intents and purposes of this excerise, we’re involving Bela (enjoythe_ride), obviously, and because my brain doesn’t feel like working with the crack today, Dean Winchester (dean_w). “Me,” of course, is myself. Please note that Dean works best when I’m running on five hours sleep. It’s ugly and unfair, but that’s the way he is.
Anyway.
Me: Oh, Lord. Here we go.
Bela: Do we have to do this?
Dean: Yes.
Bela: I wasn’t talking to you.
Dean: I know you weren’t. But I was answering the question anyway. Because I knew the answer.
Bela: That’s a rare event, isn’t it?
Dean: *glare* AND. I was here first.
Bela: *eyeroll*
Dean: I hate her. Why’d you ever pick her up anyway?
Me: *facepalm*
Dean: I should probably introduce myself to the viewing population. Since some of these people haven’t seen me before. Ya know, just so that they have a clear depiction of who was here first.
Bela: That most certainly isn’t necessary. I think they know you are, Dean. Some of them have talked with another you. In fact, some of them are you.
Dean: I wasn’t talking to you, bitch. I was talking to her. *points to Emily*
Me: Be my guest.
Bela: You’ve got to be joking.
Me: *shrugs* Fine by me. Ups my word count.
Dean: *is totally gloating*
Bela: *an eyeroll, slightly more dramatic than the last*
Me: *knows her muses are giant two year-olds*
Dean: *gives the viewing audience his best winning smile* Hi. I’m Dean Winchester. You may know me from the hit CW drama “Supernatural.” I’m an Aquarius, and I like guns, fast cars, heavy metal and pretty girls, and ladies? I happen to be single.
Bela: Until your deal runs out and you die.
Dean: *glare* Was anyone asking you?
Bela: *again, with the eyerolling*
Dean: Some of you may also know me from over at Dramatic Muses, where me and my baby brother, Sam, were kicking some cylon ass as we tried to save President Laura Roslin from a fate worse than death. And, yes-I was awesome.
Bela: Oh, please, you never even faced a cylon. There wasn’t even a cylon in the game.
Dean: Yes, there was. The hotass blonde one.
Bela: That was later, after the community had closed. And you didn’t even interact with her-she was in Sam’s head, not yours.
Dean: Do you mind? I’m trying to properly introduce myself here.
Bela: Whatever.
Dean: Besides, how do you know, anyway? You weren’t even around.
Bela: I hear things.
Dean: *turns on Emily* Did you tell her that?
Me: Dean, I’m a mindless drone. You speak, I type. That’s how it works.
Dean: Uh-huh.
Me: Please finish introducing yourself, so we can get on with this.
Dean: Right-I would also like to point out that contrary to popular belief, I was actually here before Bela. She came later, I was here first. My ‘mindless drone’ as she likes to call herself, claims that I’m not around so much anymore because I’m just too popular a guy, and everyone wants to write me. But I’d like to point out that she’s a member of several communities where more than one of a character is allowed, and there are, in fact, open slots for me. So I think it’s because she’s just lazy.
Me: Dean-do you want my head to explode?
Dean: No.
Me: Then you can wait. I hate to tell you, hun, but school is more important than you.
Dean: But-I’m dying.
Me: I’m sorry, but at the moment, I really don’t feel bad about that.
Dean: You suck. Out loud. In bright colors.
Me: I know. Anyway, can we get on with this now?
Bela: Yes, please. Can we?
Dean: Fine.
Me: Alright. Since Bela already has the Colt, I think it’s fair to say that she had something of yours, and all that’s left is to give Dean something of Bela’s, yes?
Dean: Yes.
Bela: No.
Me: Too bad.
Dean: *totally gloats again*
Bela: *pouts*
Dean: *rubs his hands together* So what do I get?
Me: I was thinking Bela’s money.
Bela: WHAT?!?!?
Dean: Sweet! And I get to spend it however I want?
Me: That’s the idea.
Dean: Vegas, here I come!
Bela: *desperate face* All of it!?!
Me: Yup.
Bela: That can’t possibly be an even trade.
Dean: Prompt doesn’t say anything about the trade having to be even.
Bela: If he gets all my money, I want the car too.
Dean: HELL FUCKIN’ NO.
Bela: Oh, please-I won’t destroy it.
Dean: YOU KEEP YOUR SLUTTY THIEVING HANDS OFF MY CAR.
Bela: It’s just a car, Dean.
Dean: *cocks a shotgun* Can I shoot her?
Me: *to Dean* No. *to Bela* You can’t have the car.
Bela: Why not?
Me: Because Dean will have a heart attack. The point of the prompt is to have you fighting, not one of you dead.
Bela: It’s still not nearly a even trade.
Me: She does have a valid point.
Dean: She does?!?
Me: Dean, what else would you give Bela to even this up?
Dean: I’m not giving her shit. She stole the damn gun!
Bela: Not for the purposes of this, I didn’t.
Dean: Yes, but she also owes us forty-six thousand dollars.
Bela: Twenty-six thousand.
Dean: What?!?
Bela: Twenty grand for saving my life, remember?
Dean: So doesn’t count.
Bela: *eyeroll* Fine.
Dean: So I think this is a perfectly even trade to me.
Bela: *pouts*
Dean: *far too proud of himself* Now, if you’ll excuse me-I’ll be at the craps table.
Me: Thank God.
Bela: … I’m going to get that money back? Right?
Me: *innocent shrug*
Bela: *glare*
963 words