[FICTION] The Young & The Cloned
Fandom: Doctor Horrible's Sing Along Blog
Characters: Doctor Horrible, Penny, Johnny Snow and mentions of Moist and the E.L.E.
Rating: PG-13 because there are swears
Notes: felldeedsawake beta'd for me. ♥
"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Doctor Horrible grinned at the webcam and waggled his eyebrows enough to waggle his goggles by proxy. Behind him, his lab looked busier than ever.
Tubes and tube-like containers full of fun colored chemicals overwhelmed what was probably once a kitchen. Or maybe it had been a breakfast nook.
"Moist. Any of you remember Moist? He told me to give it up. Snake Bite and Fake Thomas Jefferson made their catty little jokes about my 'obsession' during the Evil League of Evil's week long team-building trip in Vegas. During the Cirque du Soleil show! The rest of them just laughed..."
He sneered a little.
"Jerks."
Horrible picked up the webcam and began walking through his apartment, holding it so close the screen was nothing but the red of his new designer costume. "You know, even Bad Horse had his guys tell me it was a bad idea." He pulled the camera away from his chest and looked into it, one eyebrow raised underneath his goggles in a kind of lopsided disbelief. It looked a little painful.
"Like he even knows what it's like to lose someone you... do laundry with. Horses don't even have laundry," he looked away, ahead, and frowned for exactly 3.14 seconds before grinning madly again.
This part he'd rehearsed. Not, you know, a lot. Just twenty times.
He pointed the camera to the body of a redhead laying on what looked like one of those metal tables they use in the kitchen at the deli on the corner.
"Synthetics, some gene splicing, a few failed attempts, we don't talk about those, and a few explosions leave me one adrenaline shot away from realizing my true destiny of not-loneliness and more quo for the status than I could have ever imagined!"
The doctor sounded giddy and he set the camera down, stooping down a little to look into it again.
"Hear that, Captain 'Help Me' Hammer? Yeah, that's right, I win. Again. Go... cry to your therapist or whatever."
He straightened for a moment before looking into the camera again.
"And if I see you trying to start trouble in the comments one more time I am so banning your IP from this blog. Got it?" A pause for it to sink in, "Good," and he went back to the girl on his table.
Doctor Horrible sighed, eyes never leaving the face of the girl on the table as he smoothed his red smock, straightening the seam and taking a moment to pull on his shiny black gloves.
It wasn't fidgeting, but whatever it was, a snicker from off-screen stopped it. "Shut up, Johnny Snow. This is your last shot at the big time. You're here to hand me that adrenaline shot, not make jokes."
A perturbed and very deep voice with a thick Boston accent answered, "Wouldn't have to be here at all if you'd just give in to the Henchman Union's demands."
The doctor just pointed threateningly off to the left and once again returned to the girl on the table. Now was not the time.
There was a sudden swell of music from what was most likely a disembodied Casio keyboard with rhythm functions, and Doctor Horrible took his cue.
"We're no strangers to love. You know the rules, and so do I. A full commit-"
"Um, Doctor H?" The music cut off as soon as he spoke and Doctor Horrible glared to the left. "We can't afford the royalties on that."
With a roll of his eyes, Doctor Horrible muttered a few curses under his breath, "'effing Rick Astley," and turned to Johnny Snow. "You know what? Just, like, give me the stupid syringe and get out of here. I'll see about getting you an arch nemesis the next time the E.L.E. has a meeting, okay?"
"Fine," and with that, an icicle-covered hand peeked on screen to hand over the syringe only to disappear again, with the fading farewell of many who had come to know Doctor Horrible lately, "You're such a freak."
The departing Johnny Snow wasn't even spared a sneer as a door slammed in the background. In front of that old deli table, Doctor Horrible, formerly known as Billy Buddy, was steeling himself for what he had to do.
"Okay, Penny, this is it." A blink, a twitch, and he raised the syringe just like they'd showed him in that class he audited from the community college on dramatic gestures with medical supplies.
In a movement that would have his professor applauding his progress, Doctor Horrible's arm went down, the syringe was buried in her chest, and she flew off the table in a blur of color.
He'd had to borrow clothes for her, and Tie-Die was the only one who had anything in her size.
"Whoa!" A beat passed while the camera fell quietly to the floor, leaving only two sets of feet (one bare and one clad in shiny black boots) in the frame. Penny's were on top. "Wow, that was a lot more like Pulp Fiction than I imagined..."
"What the..." She was speaking through pants and gulps of air and her feet had staggered back toward the wall behind her. "Billy?! What just fuck just happened?!"
"Penny! I brought you back! You know, cloned a few cells, had to, um, buy a liver off some guy Professor Normal knew from college, but mostly it's you."
"You what?"
"...whaaaaaaat?"
"My liver?"
"Oh, that, yeah. It's, um, it's good though. Ran all sorts of tests on it before I put it in."
"...what happened to my old liver?"
"Um, you see, when you died you were still listed as an organ donor, which is really admirable and I respect your decision and everything but damn was it hard to get enough genetic material for v2.0 after everything got harvested."
Penny only panted at him in disbelief.
"Oh, right, your liver is in some little kid from Jersey."
With that, the camera's tiny batteries finally gave up the ghost and the screen was filled with static.
Characters: Doctor Horrible, Penny, Johnny Snow and mentions of Moist and the E.L.E.
Rating: PG-13 because there are swears
Notes: felldeedsawake beta'd for me. ♥
"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Doctor Horrible grinned at the webcam and waggled his eyebrows enough to waggle his goggles by proxy. Behind him, his lab looked busier than ever.
Tubes and tube-like containers full of fun colored chemicals overwhelmed what was probably once a kitchen. Or maybe it had been a breakfast nook.
"Moist. Any of you remember Moist? He told me to give it up. Snake Bite and Fake Thomas Jefferson made their catty little jokes about my 'obsession' during the Evil League of Evil's week long team-building trip in Vegas. During the Cirque du Soleil show! The rest of them just laughed..."
He sneered a little.
"Jerks."
Horrible picked up the webcam and began walking through his apartment, holding it so close the screen was nothing but the red of his new designer costume. "You know, even Bad Horse had his guys tell me it was a bad idea." He pulled the camera away from his chest and looked into it, one eyebrow raised underneath his goggles in a kind of lopsided disbelief. It looked a little painful.
"Like he even knows what it's like to lose someone you... do laundry with. Horses don't even have laundry," he looked away, ahead, and frowned for exactly 3.14 seconds before grinning madly again.
This part he'd rehearsed. Not, you know, a lot. Just twenty times.
He pointed the camera to the body of a redhead laying on what looked like one of those metal tables they use in the kitchen at the deli on the corner.
"Synthetics, some gene splicing, a few failed attempts, we don't talk about those, and a few explosions leave me one adrenaline shot away from realizing my true destiny of not-loneliness and more quo for the status than I could have ever imagined!"
The doctor sounded giddy and he set the camera down, stooping down a little to look into it again.
"Hear that, Captain 'Help Me' Hammer? Yeah, that's right, I win. Again. Go... cry to your therapist or whatever."
He straightened for a moment before looking into the camera again.
"And if I see you trying to start trouble in the comments one more time I am so banning your IP from this blog. Got it?" A pause for it to sink in, "Good," and he went back to the girl on his table.
Doctor Horrible sighed, eyes never leaving the face of the girl on the table as he smoothed his red smock, straightening the seam and taking a moment to pull on his shiny black gloves.
It wasn't fidgeting, but whatever it was, a snicker from off-screen stopped it. "Shut up, Johnny Snow. This is your last shot at the big time. You're here to hand me that adrenaline shot, not make jokes."
A perturbed and very deep voice with a thick Boston accent answered, "Wouldn't have to be here at all if you'd just give in to the Henchman Union's demands."
The doctor just pointed threateningly off to the left and once again returned to the girl on the table. Now was not the time.
There was a sudden swell of music from what was most likely a disembodied Casio keyboard with rhythm functions, and Doctor Horrible took his cue.
"We're no strangers to love. You know the rules, and so do I. A full commit-"
"Um, Doctor H?" The music cut off as soon as he spoke and Doctor Horrible glared to the left. "We can't afford the royalties on that."
With a roll of his eyes, Doctor Horrible muttered a few curses under his breath, "'effing Rick Astley," and turned to Johnny Snow. "You know what? Just, like, give me the stupid syringe and get out of here. I'll see about getting you an arch nemesis the next time the E.L.E. has a meeting, okay?"
"Fine," and with that, an icicle-covered hand peeked on screen to hand over the syringe only to disappear again, with the fading farewell of many who had come to know Doctor Horrible lately, "You're such a freak."
The departing Johnny Snow wasn't even spared a sneer as a door slammed in the background. In front of that old deli table, Doctor Horrible, formerly known as Billy Buddy, was steeling himself for what he had to do.
"Okay, Penny, this is it." A blink, a twitch, and he raised the syringe just like they'd showed him in that class he audited from the community college on dramatic gestures with medical supplies.
In a movement that would have his professor applauding his progress, Doctor Horrible's arm went down, the syringe was buried in her chest, and she flew off the table in a blur of color.
He'd had to borrow clothes for her, and Tie-Die was the only one who had anything in her size.
"Whoa!" A beat passed while the camera fell quietly to the floor, leaving only two sets of feet (one bare and one clad in shiny black boots) in the frame. Penny's were on top. "Wow, that was a lot more like Pulp Fiction than I imagined..."
"What the..." She was speaking through pants and gulps of air and her feet had staggered back toward the wall behind her. "Billy?! What just fuck just happened?!"
"Penny! I brought you back! You know, cloned a few cells, had to, um, buy a liver off some guy Professor Normal knew from college, but mostly it's you."
"You what?"
"...whaaaaaaat?"
"My liver?"
"Oh, that, yeah. It's, um, it's good though. Ran all sorts of tests on it before I put it in."
"...what happened to my old liver?"
"Um, you see, when you died you were still listed as an organ donor, which is really admirable and I respect your decision and everything but damn was it hard to get enough genetic material for v2.0 after everything got harvested."
Penny only panted at him in disbelief.
"Oh, right, your liver is in some little kid from Jersey."
With that, the camera's tiny batteries finally gave up the ghost and the screen was filled with static.