Fic -- At Least There Weren't Any Knock-Knock Jokes
Title: At Least There Weren't Any Knock-Knock Jokes
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 660
Characters: Roy G. Bivolo, Len Snart, Lisa Snart, Sam Scudder, Mark Mardon, James Jesse, Hartley Rathaway, Roscoe Dillon, Digger Harkness.
Summary: Never tell the Rogues about your side projects.
Warnings: One bad word.
Notes: This came about because the actor who plays Roy in the television series (Paul Anthony) also runs a talent show. And then I imagined Roy running one too, and ended up with this nonsense.
The show was due to start that evening, and Roy had been running around frantically all day. “Have the McGarritys found those costumes yet?!” he screamed at his stage manager, and the woman shook her head helplessly. Another thing to add to his growing to-do list.
“I can’t go on without my props,” a ventriloquist told him accusingly, and Roy nearly pulled out a clump of his own hair in frustration.
“Well then, I guess you shouldn’t have forgotten them!”
The man looked very offended by this and was clearly about to launch into a tirade, but Roy was already stalking away to deal with the stage’s critical lighting situation.
“The cameras aren’t work-“ one of his stagehands said he as walked past, but was utterly ignored. There would be no show anyway without the lights.
“Hey Bivolo,” said a familiar voice behind him, and Roy whirled around. There stood Captain Cold and most of the Rogues, and each held a duffel bag of unknown objects.
“I’m really busy,” Roy grumbled as he turned away, but Len stepped forward before he could leave the room.
“We won’t take up a lot of your time. But we want to appear in the talent show.”
Roy turned back to look at them, this time much more slowly. “What?”
“We’re all very talented!” James declared cheerfully, and the assembled Rogues nodded. “For example, I’ve had the training to do all sorts of acrobatic and wire stunts to wow a large audience. But since you don’t have a lot of room on this stage, I’ll just restrict it to juggling and maybe the occasional backflip.”
“I spin, of course, and have all sorts of trick tops,” Roscoe added.
“I placed third in a singing competition when I was eleven,” Sam declared proudly.
“I play the harmonica,” Mark told everyone, much to the obvious displeasure of Hartley.
“I can do whatever he does, only a hundred times better and with more instruments,” Hartley shot back, and Mark decided to trip him the next chance he got.
“I can crush two beer cans on my head in one go,” Digger grinned, and cheerfully demonstrated for the group.
Lisa yawned with obvious disinterest. “I did some tap-dancing before I got into skating.” She didn’t really seem like she wanted to be there, and in fact had been dragged along by the men in her life.
“I can burp the Star-Spangled Banner,” Len shrugged casually at Roy’s disbelieving expression. “I just wanna be on TV, mostly.”
Roy smiled kindly at his friends. “Without a doubt, that is…” he began slowly, and the others looked at him hopefully, “…the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. First of all, you guys are all very much wanted criminals. And secondly, some of your talents are dumb, and most of you aren’t very skilled at the ones which aren’t! You might have been good at singing before puberty, Sam, but you totally suck at karaoke now! I don’t want any of you on my show except maybe James and Hartley and Lisa, and I’m pretty sure nobody watches the program to hear some boring classical music anyway. The rest of you get out and let me get my work done!”
“Well that was just fucking rude,” Mark complained as the rejected Rogues walked away, most grumbling loudly. Some had hurt feelings, while others were simply annoyed at having been put in their place by Roy Bivolo of all people.
“That little bugger’s not getting an invite to our next pub night,” Digger snorted, although Sam sighed heavily.
“He’s never gotten an invitation before, he just shows up anyway. I’m sure next week won’t be any different.”
But Len was whistling with his hands jammed in his pockets, and didn’t seem bothered by anything.
“What are you so happy about?” Roscoe asked with a frown, and Len flashed a contented grin at everyone.
“Just thinkin’ about how we’re gonna crash the show tonight.”
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 660
Characters: Roy G. Bivolo, Len Snart, Lisa Snart, Sam Scudder, Mark Mardon, James Jesse, Hartley Rathaway, Roscoe Dillon, Digger Harkness.
Summary: Never tell the Rogues about your side projects.
Warnings: One bad word.
Notes: This came about because the actor who plays Roy in the television series (Paul Anthony) also runs a talent show. And then I imagined Roy running one too, and ended up with this nonsense.
The show was due to start that evening, and Roy had been running around frantically all day. “Have the McGarritys found those costumes yet?!” he screamed at his stage manager, and the woman shook her head helplessly. Another thing to add to his growing to-do list.
“I can’t go on without my props,” a ventriloquist told him accusingly, and Roy nearly pulled out a clump of his own hair in frustration.
“Well then, I guess you shouldn’t have forgotten them!”
The man looked very offended by this and was clearly about to launch into a tirade, but Roy was already stalking away to deal with the stage’s critical lighting situation.
“The cameras aren’t work-“ one of his stagehands said he as walked past, but was utterly ignored. There would be no show anyway without the lights.
“Hey Bivolo,” said a familiar voice behind him, and Roy whirled around. There stood Captain Cold and most of the Rogues, and each held a duffel bag of unknown objects.
“I’m really busy,” Roy grumbled as he turned away, but Len stepped forward before he could leave the room.
“We won’t take up a lot of your time. But we want to appear in the talent show.”
Roy turned back to look at them, this time much more slowly. “What?”
“We’re all very talented!” James declared cheerfully, and the assembled Rogues nodded. “For example, I’ve had the training to do all sorts of acrobatic and wire stunts to wow a large audience. But since you don’t have a lot of room on this stage, I’ll just restrict it to juggling and maybe the occasional backflip.”
“I spin, of course, and have all sorts of trick tops,” Roscoe added.
“I placed third in a singing competition when I was eleven,” Sam declared proudly.
“I play the harmonica,” Mark told everyone, much to the obvious displeasure of Hartley.
“I can do whatever he does, only a hundred times better and with more instruments,” Hartley shot back, and Mark decided to trip him the next chance he got.
“I can crush two beer cans on my head in one go,” Digger grinned, and cheerfully demonstrated for the group.
Lisa yawned with obvious disinterest. “I did some tap-dancing before I got into skating.” She didn’t really seem like she wanted to be there, and in fact had been dragged along by the men in her life.
“I can burp the Star-Spangled Banner,” Len shrugged casually at Roy’s disbelieving expression. “I just wanna be on TV, mostly.”
Roy smiled kindly at his friends. “Without a doubt, that is…” he began slowly, and the others looked at him hopefully, “…the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. First of all, you guys are all very much wanted criminals. And secondly, some of your talents are dumb, and most of you aren’t very skilled at the ones which aren’t! You might have been good at singing before puberty, Sam, but you totally suck at karaoke now! I don’t want any of you on my show except maybe James and Hartley and Lisa, and I’m pretty sure nobody watches the program to hear some boring classical music anyway. The rest of you get out and let me get my work done!”
“Well that was just fucking rude,” Mark complained as the rejected Rogues walked away, most grumbling loudly. Some had hurt feelings, while others were simply annoyed at having been put in their place by Roy Bivolo of all people.
“That little bugger’s not getting an invite to our next pub night,” Digger snorted, although Sam sighed heavily.
“He’s never gotten an invitation before, he just shows up anyway. I’m sure next week won’t be any different.”
But Len was whistling with his hands jammed in his pockets, and didn’t seem bothered by anything.
“What are you so happy about?” Roscoe asked with a frown, and Len flashed a contented grin at everyone.
“Just thinkin’ about how we’re gonna crash the show tonight.”