For the Birds
Fandom Slings and Arrows
Characters: Anna, Darren
Rating: G
Word Count: 300
Notes: Written for ds_snippets, for the prompt, ‘flamingo.’ Because I am inordinately fond of that prompt.
Summary: In which Anna is bearer of bad news.
It was Monday, and Darren was being exasperating.
These two facts were not linked. Darren, it was well known, could be exasperating on any day of the week.
“Darren,” said Anna, in her most reasonable tone. Darren bristled. “We are not getting you live flamingos.”
“I need them! The entire atmosphere of the piece hinges on the presence of those flamingos!”
“But it’s Julius Caesar!” said Anna. Darren raised an eyebrow. “And you only want them for one act. And why on earth do you need flamingos in Rome?”
“Flamingos are exactly the sort of exotic import that ancient Roman imperial goons would happily show off to their sycophants, either in a cage or on a plate!” said Darren. “The flamingos, not the sycophants. This isn’t Titus Andronicus.”
Thank God for small favors.
“But you’re not even setting it in ancient Rome! You have Antony delivering his funeral oration from the window of a spaceship. One that looks suspiciously like the Death Star.”
“The decadence of empire transcends time and place,” said Darren, in his most condescending drawl.
“Couldn’t you use something else to portray the decadence of empire?” she tried. Preferably something that wouldn’t leave droppings all over the stage.
“Do you not understand the significance of the flamingos’ color? Caused by the ingestion of aqueous bacteria? The metaphor is so obvious a child could see it!”
Anna could not, but felt that if there was a child in this conversation, it wasn’t her.
“That may be,” she said evenly. “But unless you can get that child to pay for them, no live flamingos!”
“Fine,” snapped Darren. “No live flamingos. Long live the bourgeoisie!” He crossed his arms. “I’ll settle for stuffed.”
Anna breathed a sigh of relief.
“And I mean taxidermy, not polyester!”
Monday was an exasperating day.
Characters: Anna, Darren
Rating: G
Word Count: 300
Notes: Written for ds_snippets, for the prompt, ‘flamingo.’ Because I am inordinately fond of that prompt.
Summary: In which Anna is bearer of bad news.
It was Monday, and Darren was being exasperating.
These two facts were not linked. Darren, it was well known, could be exasperating on any day of the week.
“Darren,” said Anna, in her most reasonable tone. Darren bristled. “We are not getting you live flamingos.”
“I need them! The entire atmosphere of the piece hinges on the presence of those flamingos!”
“But it’s Julius Caesar!” said Anna. Darren raised an eyebrow. “And you only want them for one act. And why on earth do you need flamingos in Rome?”
“Flamingos are exactly the sort of exotic import that ancient Roman imperial goons would happily show off to their sycophants, either in a cage or on a plate!” said Darren. “The flamingos, not the sycophants. This isn’t Titus Andronicus.”
Thank God for small favors.
“But you’re not even setting it in ancient Rome! You have Antony delivering his funeral oration from the window of a spaceship. One that looks suspiciously like the Death Star.”
“The decadence of empire transcends time and place,” said Darren, in his most condescending drawl.
“Couldn’t you use something else to portray the decadence of empire?” she tried. Preferably something that wouldn’t leave droppings all over the stage.
“Do you not understand the significance of the flamingos’ color? Caused by the ingestion of aqueous bacteria? The metaphor is so obvious a child could see it!”
Anna could not, but felt that if there was a child in this conversation, it wasn’t her.
“That may be,” she said evenly. “But unless you can get that child to pay for them, no live flamingos!”
“Fine,” snapped Darren. “No live flamingos. Long live the bourgeoisie!” He crossed his arms. “I’ll settle for stuffed.”
Anna breathed a sigh of relief.
“And I mean taxidermy, not polyester!”
Monday was an exasperating day.