Grand Plans
Jan. 26th, 2009 06:14 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
deird_ljHappy Australia Day!
Here's something written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
still_grrr, for the prompt "criminal minds".
Grand Plans
The problem with vampires, Dave mused, was that the moment a new get broke through the dirt, he had aspirations. He couldn’t just be content to drain a few helpless victims and stay out of trouble. No, he had to have a gang and start plotting the world’s destruction, before he’d even changed out of his funeral clothes. He thought he was bloody Lestat, rather than just the latest in a long line of completely ordinary vamps.
And by “he”, Dave specifically meant the leather-jacket-and-jeans-wearing poser holding court in the corner of the bar.
Amateur.
Still, they were buying plenty of drinks, so what did he care?
Dave shrugged, and kept mixing pigs blood spritzers, still keeping an eye on that corner table.
There were five of them. Mr I-think-I’m-Lestat, of course, a nerd who actually was still wearing his funeral suit, another one modelling a fedora and tie as if he was in the Mafia, one who clearly thought wearing a Metallica t-shirt made him look hardcore, and one who Dave had mentally christened Elmer Fudd, because that’s the way he talked.
Not that he’d called the guy “Elmer” to his face. Dave was incredibly confident and sarcastic, but he wasn’t fucking stupid.
Unlike these idiots, who were huddled around their table talking in hushed voices – because, obviously, that’s the way criminal masterminds communicate – thereby proving that they had no idea what they were doing.
First rule of sinister plans: don’t look like you’re planning anything sinister.
The rest of the bar had that rule down pat.
The two Churoche demons in the front were cheerfully comparing photos of their kids, and also (Dave had discovered while restocking the peanuts) discussing which office building they were going to set on fire next; the friendly game of darts was being used as cover for the weekly meeting of the Tempest Gang; the little girls throwing coasters at each other down at the back table might look like a flock of mini-vamps out for a night on the town, but they were almost certainly up to something more interesting. Not to mention all the regulars, happily getting drunk, and saving their evil plots for a more appropriate venue.
Lestat and his groupies, meanwhile, were still trying for the hushed voices routine – and weren’t doing it very well. You could hear every word they were saying.
“…going to take it any longer. Damn humans think they own this town.”
“Yeah. Stupid humans.”
“We’ll show em.”
“Yeah!”
“Yeah!”
“Um… how?” That was Funeral Nerd, who didn’t seem to get that the point of being a minion was to nod along enthusiastically until the leader told you the next bit.
“What d’you mean, how? We’re going to take back the town!”
“Yeah, but how?”
Dave rolled his eyes, and carried a beer down to the back table, where he was greeted with a chorus of excited giggles, and the glass was taken with a nod by the only person at the table not wearing pigtails.
The gang-of-the-damned were still plotting, loudly.
“The mall?”
“Yeah! Heaps of people just walking around waiting to be killed. We’ll slaughter them all, and turn all the best ones.”
“Brilliant.”
Rule two: don’t let random bystanders hear your evil plan, you absolute idiots.
Mr Mafia leaned forward, and said confidentially, “I know that mall inside out. The food court is always packed – we’ll start there, and move out to take the rest of them.”
“Good plan,” Lestat nodded.
Rule three: if you come up with the stupidest plan in the history of mankind, keep your mouth shut.
Also, learn to block the exits before you start the slaughter.
Dave could have given lessons in how to be successfully evil. He’d been working here for eight years – knew every trick in the book.
The only reason he hadn’t started running a correspondence course was because he was human, and technically not actually evil.
Plus, bartending paid better.
And also, he knew which of his clientele not to piss off.
But, if his Evil In Five Easy Weeks program was up and running, he still wouldn’t let these morons in on it.
They were so dense they hadn’t even noticed who else was in the bar.
“We’ll line them all up, and pick the best fighters to join our gang.”
“Excellent.”
Funeral Nerd chimed in again. “We’ll have to turn some chicks too, man.”
Great idea. Can’t get a girlfriend, so make your own. “That didn’t work out for Frankenstein either, idiot,” Dave muttered, wiping the counter.
“So, when are we doing this? Tomorrow?”
“Nah, why wait? The mall’s open tonight – let’s hit it now!”
“Yeah!”
“Cool!”
“Score!”
They high-fived each other, and walked confidently out of the bar, tossing Dave a tip as they went past.
Forty bucks. The tip of someone who thinks he’s having a good night.
They were, at any rate, good tippers, Dave conceded. And they hadn’t made too much mess, or broken any furniture. So, all in all, pretty good customers.
Too bad he’d never see them again.
The woman at the back table stood up, and said, “Okay. Listen up, newbies,” and the little girls stopped giggling and went silent.
As did the rest of the bar.
“You’ve seen our target group. Who can tell me where they’re going?”
A girl wearing a Bratz t-shirt put her hand up eagerly.
“Tegan?”
“The mall on fifth street.”
“Good. Okay, we’re going in three teams, and we’re undercover, so just stakes. No swords, Melanie – clear?” A blonde girl who looked about ten nodded glumly, and the older woman grinned, and tossed back the rest of her beer. “Okay, let’s move out.”
The girls stood up and started making their way outside, chattering excitedly and comparing weapons.
Their leader stopped at the bar and handed over some bills. “Thanks, Dave.”
“No problem, Slayer. Have a good training session.”
She rolled her eyes, but grinned. “These kids are wearing me out. I swear, I hear one more discussion about painting axes pretty colours, and I’m gonna snap.”
Dave laughed.
“See you later.”
“See you, Faith.”
She left, and Dave walked down to start cleaning up the back table.
He felt slightly weird about standing around letting his customers kill each other, but really, if they were going to start plotting the town’s destruction in front of a bunch of over-excited Slayers, what did they expect?
Fucking amateurs.
Here's something written for
still_grrr, for the prompt "criminal minds".Grand Plans
The problem with vampires, Dave mused, was that the moment a new get broke through the dirt, he had aspirations. He couldn’t just be content to drain a few helpless victims and stay out of trouble. No, he had to have a gang and start plotting the world’s destruction, before he’d even changed out of his funeral clothes. He thought he was bloody Lestat, rather than just the latest in a long line of completely ordinary vamps.
And by “he”, Dave specifically meant the leather-jacket-and-jeans-wearing poser holding court in the corner of the bar.
Amateur.
Still, they were buying plenty of drinks, so what did he care?
Dave shrugged, and kept mixing pigs blood spritzers, still keeping an eye on that corner table.
There were five of them. Mr I-think-I’m-Lestat, of course, a nerd who actually was still wearing his funeral suit, another one modelling a fedora and tie as if he was in the Mafia, one who clearly thought wearing a Metallica t-shirt made him look hardcore, and one who Dave had mentally christened Elmer Fudd, because that’s the way he talked.
Not that he’d called the guy “Elmer” to his face. Dave was incredibly confident and sarcastic, but he wasn’t fucking stupid.
Unlike these idiots, who were huddled around their table talking in hushed voices – because, obviously, that’s the way criminal masterminds communicate – thereby proving that they had no idea what they were doing.
First rule of sinister plans: don’t look like you’re planning anything sinister.
The rest of the bar had that rule down pat.
The two Churoche demons in the front were cheerfully comparing photos of their kids, and also (Dave had discovered while restocking the peanuts) discussing which office building they were going to set on fire next; the friendly game of darts was being used as cover for the weekly meeting of the Tempest Gang; the little girls throwing coasters at each other down at the back table might look like a flock of mini-vamps out for a night on the town, but they were almost certainly up to something more interesting. Not to mention all the regulars, happily getting drunk, and saving their evil plots for a more appropriate venue.
Lestat and his groupies, meanwhile, were still trying for the hushed voices routine – and weren’t doing it very well. You could hear every word they were saying.
“…going to take it any longer. Damn humans think they own this town.”
“Yeah. Stupid humans.”
“We’ll show em.”
“Yeah!”
“Yeah!”
“Um… how?” That was Funeral Nerd, who didn’t seem to get that the point of being a minion was to nod along enthusiastically until the leader told you the next bit.
“What d’you mean, how? We’re going to take back the town!”
“Yeah, but how?”
Dave rolled his eyes, and carried a beer down to the back table, where he was greeted with a chorus of excited giggles, and the glass was taken with a nod by the only person at the table not wearing pigtails.
The gang-of-the-damned were still plotting, loudly.
“The mall?”
“Yeah! Heaps of people just walking around waiting to be killed. We’ll slaughter them all, and turn all the best ones.”
“Brilliant.”
Rule two: don’t let random bystanders hear your evil plan, you absolute idiots.
Mr Mafia leaned forward, and said confidentially, “I know that mall inside out. The food court is always packed – we’ll start there, and move out to take the rest of them.”
“Good plan,” Lestat nodded.
Rule three: if you come up with the stupidest plan in the history of mankind, keep your mouth shut.
Also, learn to block the exits before you start the slaughter.
Dave could have given lessons in how to be successfully evil. He’d been working here for eight years – knew every trick in the book.
The only reason he hadn’t started running a correspondence course was because he was human, and technically not actually evil.
Plus, bartending paid better.
And also, he knew which of his clientele not to piss off.
But, if his Evil In Five Easy Weeks program was up and running, he still wouldn’t let these morons in on it.
They were so dense they hadn’t even noticed who else was in the bar.
“We’ll line them all up, and pick the best fighters to join our gang.”
“Excellent.”
Funeral Nerd chimed in again. “We’ll have to turn some chicks too, man.”
Great idea. Can’t get a girlfriend, so make your own. “That didn’t work out for Frankenstein either, idiot,” Dave muttered, wiping the counter.
“So, when are we doing this? Tomorrow?”
“Nah, why wait? The mall’s open tonight – let’s hit it now!”
“Yeah!”
“Cool!”
“Score!”
They high-fived each other, and walked confidently out of the bar, tossing Dave a tip as they went past.
Forty bucks. The tip of someone who thinks he’s having a good night.
They were, at any rate, good tippers, Dave conceded. And they hadn’t made too much mess, or broken any furniture. So, all in all, pretty good customers.
Too bad he’d never see them again.
The woman at the back table stood up, and said, “Okay. Listen up, newbies,” and the little girls stopped giggling and went silent.
As did the rest of the bar.
“You’ve seen our target group. Who can tell me where they’re going?”
A girl wearing a Bratz t-shirt put her hand up eagerly.
“Tegan?”
“The mall on fifth street.”
“Good. Okay, we’re going in three teams, and we’re undercover, so just stakes. No swords, Melanie – clear?” A blonde girl who looked about ten nodded glumly, and the older woman grinned, and tossed back the rest of her beer. “Okay, let’s move out.”
The girls stood up and started making their way outside, chattering excitedly and comparing weapons.
Their leader stopped at the bar and handed over some bills. “Thanks, Dave.”
“No problem, Slayer. Have a good training session.”
She rolled her eyes, but grinned. “These kids are wearing me out. I swear, I hear one more discussion about painting axes pretty colours, and I’m gonna snap.”
Dave laughed.
“See you later.”
“See you, Faith.”
She left, and Dave walked down to start cleaning up the back table.
He felt slightly weird about standing around letting his customers kill each other, but really, if they were going to start plotting the town’s destruction in front of a bunch of over-excited Slayers, what did they expect?
Fucking amateurs.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-01-25 08:03 pm (UTC)(I know that's inadequate fb, but really I was just sat grinning along. Just what I needed!)
no subject
Date: 2009-01-26 12:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-25 09:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-26 12:44 am (UTC)Glad you like it!
no subject
Date: 2009-01-25 10:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-26 12:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-26 12:20 am (UTC)Anyways, it was very cute and amusing. The vamp gang sounded very stereotypical teenage boy to me, which you have to admit is *always* funny.
Also? I love the name Tegan. Because it reminds me of Tegan and Sara, and I love them, so it's all cherries. Which is definitely not a real expression, but I just made it one, okay?
And holy crapples, Australia has a day? How do you guys celebrate that? Do other countries have days?
/ignorance
no subject
Date: 2009-01-26 12:47 am (UTC)The vamp gang sounded very stereotypical teenage boy to me,
Absolutely. People who think they're cool, and really aren't...
And holy crapples, Australia has a day? How do you guys celebrate that? Do other countries have days?
We do indeed have a day.
Erm... think Independence Day, but less patriotic. (Trying to get patriotism out of Aussies is pretty much a lost cause. Although I did see some flags at the juice shop this morning.)
We tend to celebrate by having lots of barbecues. Mostly because it's summer, the weather's good for barbecuing, and we all get a day off.
no subject
Date: 2009-01-26 02:11 am (UTC)Shtoopid Aussies, havin' barbecues while I'm sitting in my cold cold room with my poor freezing toes...
...then again, most of that is due to me being too lazy to get off my butt and get a blanket. And my feet would probably be just as cold in summer. I have chronically cold feet.
no subject
Date: 2009-01-26 02:28 am (UTC)...actually, today's not so bad. But later this week it's going to start hitting 40. (104 F) That'll be annoying.
no subject
Date: 2009-01-26 05:50 pm (UTC)Oh, ew. That's way too hot for me. As in, I don't think I've ever seen it get that hot. O.O
I'm not much of a fan of cold weather, but it was snowing a little earlier, and that was pretty enough. Especially from inside in the heat with a blanket. ^-^
no subject
Date: 2009-01-26 08:51 pm (UTC)O.O Snow!
(Haven't seen snow since Germany, ten years ago. I miss it.)
As in, I don't think I've ever seen it get that hot.
Heh. And I live in the cold bit of Australia. Up north, it gets to 40 almost all year round.
We just have to deal with a few weeks of 40, every February...
no subject
Date: 2009-01-26 09:08 pm (UTC)Aww, that sucks. Although we've just been getting flurries for the past couple of years; we used to get, you know, actual snow. So I miss that. *sulks*
Up north, it gets to 40 almost all year round.
*gawks* Saywhat?!? How can people stand that?
I'd probably get sunburns, like, every day. Ouch.
no subject
Date: 2009-01-26 09:12 pm (UTC)(Please be noting the comment below, in which
I spend most of the summer with my curtains shut, blinds pulled down, and the air-con on full-blast. And I still boil.
no subject
Date: 2009-01-27 01:48 am (UTC)*pets you*
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Date: 2009-01-27 01:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-27 04:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-27 09:23 pm (UTC)Snow...
*wants*
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Date: 2009-01-28 05:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-26 09:08 am (UTC)Is that a Buffy-term for a new vamp, or a spelling error....?
Cute story. :-)
btw- do you have aircon? I may die while at your house on Friday night otherwise...
no subject
Date: 2009-01-26 08:49 pm (UTC)Thanks!
Is that a Buffy-term for a new vamp, or a spelling error....?
See, here's the problem: the show had the term "sire" for a vampire who had made another one, but didn't provide a word for the vampire who had been sired.
Some people use "childe" which I hate on principle, others use "get", and others use... pretty much whatever pops into their head...
btw- do you have aircon? I may die while at your house on Friday night otherwise...
I do indeed have
air-cona very loud machine in my wall that keeps me awake while keeping my house cool.I think I'm pretty much going to leave it on day and night for the whole week...
no subject
Date: 2009-01-26 09:52 pm (UTC)Hah- Ah, I had one of those once. Haven't had occasion to use our aircon yet in this house, but if it gets to 40C every day for the week, we may have to set it, so we can breathe indoors when we get home...
no subject
Date: 2009-01-26 11:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-26 08:45 pm (UTC)Yeah, I feel a bit sorry for them too...