fiction - brigits_flame - "Tragically Hip"
Jan. 9th, 2011 04:35 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hwango"I suppose it is time that I explained to all of you why I summoned you here this evening," Lord Pearson said to the group of distinguished gentlemen arranged in his parlor. He waited a moment until he was certain that he had their attention. "Gentlemen, I'm sure that you are all familiar with the shocking events of the recent weeks. It is my duty to report to you that I have uncovered the source of these heinous crimes. What we are dealing with is none other than that most loathsome creature of the night."
"You don't mean…?" Limpton said, trailing off in horror.
"Indeed I do. A vampire," said Pearson.
"Dear god," more than one someone muttered under his breath.
"Whatever shall we do?" asked Carter.
"Our duty is clear - we must find the creature and destroy it," said Pearson with conviction.
A chorus of "hear, hear!" resounded in reply.
"Wherever shall we find this monstrous creature? A Graveyard? Crypt? Mausoleum? Necropolis?"
"No Jenkins, I'm afraid that this is a…modern vampire."
"Dear god no!"
"I have no doubt that, as we speak, it is stalking its prey somewhere that is filled with flashing lights and that appalling noise that young people mistakenly believe to be music. Someplace…trendy."
"My god – that establishment on Tipford Lane!" Limpton cried.
"You mean that place with the blue lights?" Carter asked. "Yes…yes, that seems quite the likely spot."
"I know not the establishment of which you speak. Is it…hip?" Pearson asked.
"I'm afraid, good sir, that the place is quite staggeringly hip."
"This is serious. Even now, the vile thing may be there draining the blood of misguided youths, their feeble cries for help drowned out by overly-loud synthesized percussion. They will not have seen the beast for the monster it is, but instead see a dashingly handsome youth most likely wearing a shirt with the top button unfastened and the collar rakishly askew."
"We must leave at once!" shouted Carter as he sprang from his armchair, nearly spilling his brandy.
"But wait…" said Jenkins. "How will we gain entrance? If this place is as hip as you say…"
"My god, you're right," said Pearson. "In my zeal I had failed to consider such an obstacle. They will never allow men such as ourselves entrance, no matter how righteous our cause."
"Those poor damned souls," said Carter.
A brooding silence descended over the room.
"A damned shame, but I guess there's nothing for it," said Lord Pearson at last. "More brandy, anyone?"
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Date: 2011-01-09 05:28 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2011-01-10 02:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-10 08:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-10 02:08 pm (UTC)It was everything I expected from you and then some. I don't know what killed me more: the undone collar or the offer of brandy.
That was awesome.
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Date: 2011-01-11 10:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-10 05:45 pm (UTC)Your sense of humor never fails to tickle me pink, sir. Thank you for a most hearty amusement.
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Date: 2011-01-11 11:00 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2011-01-11 11:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-11 08:28 pm (UTC)I love British, upper class humor like this. It amuses me greatly. :)
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Date: 2011-01-12 10:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-12 02:33 am (UTC)Oh my!
I can also picture them talking to some big burly bouncer laced with tattoos trying to find their way into a club. It would be amusing if they tried...
Love it!
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Date: 2011-01-12 10:11 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2011-01-13 09:30 am (UTC)