They Fight Crime!
Nov. 20th, 2003 03:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
deathpixieJust when I thought I was doomed, this from [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com] via email:
(You know, for some reason I just got the idea for a new superhero team IT Girl and Court Woman. One is a Helpdesk Technician with a shady past, the other a Disgruntled Court Clerk. Together, they fight crime!)
Watch this space for further instalments. :)
***
By the way, my hair is now long enough to put into a ponytail. A very short ponytail, and I have to clip back the sides, but a pontail nonetheless. Progress!
EDIT: The first instalment of The Adventures of IT Girl and Court Woman!
By [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com] and [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com]
"Good afternoon, Helpdesk, how can I help you?"
The words ran off Bernadette's tongue with the slick ease of long practice. Day in, day out, this was what she did, helped the technologically clueless. As the stressed-sounding man on the other end of the phone started detailing about how his computer wouldn't go, she rolled her eyes and opened up her email window. She already knew what his problem was from the first three sentences, but it was always best to let them vent, the
poor dears.
Amongst the usual work-related messages, one sender caught her eye almost immediately.
"You're needed. See you in fifteen minutes.
Guinness"
The effect was electric. She interrupted the caller's complaint about the evils of technology with a set of crisp instructions and hung up before he had time to argue. Then she hastily left, telling her co-workers she was going for lunch. The fact it was only 10.30am barely raised a murmur.
Helpdesk might be what she did, but it wasn't _who_ she was.
***
"You're needed. See you in fifteen minutes.
Guinness."
"Thank Christ, I thought it'd never come," muttered Jo as she took off her headphones and dumped them on a pile of revocation applications. "I'm just popping out to the post office," she called as she swung the door open. Apathetic grunts were her only reply as she walked briskly into the hall and jabbed the button on the lift. After a certain amount of muttered swearwords, the lift arrived, and she jumped in, pressing the "Close Doors" button before anyone could follow her, ignoring the glares. The lift in motion, she pulled out her wallet and selected something that looked like just another corporate swipe card and ran it over the blank metal panel at the bottom of the buttons. A small door opened up, revealing another set of buttons, one of which she pressed.
Strange things happened to time and space.
Fourteen minutes and 24 seconds later, Jo was stepping out of the lift into the shiny futuristic headquarters of a secret organisation that few knew or could even suspect existed, several thousand kilometres off the coast of Queensland at the bottom of the ocean. From another lift stepped Bernadette. The two exchanged nods.
"IT Girl."
"Court Woman."
"Busy day?"
Jo snorted. "Yeah, right. As if. You?"
"Insane. There was a power blackout due to thunderstorms in your part of the country and we've been struggling to keep up with all the calls."
"Some people have all the luck. Well, better go see what the Boss wants."
The two heroes pushed open a set of imposingly large brushed-steel-and-wood doors at the other end of the lobby to reveal an expansive desk. Behind it was an opulent leather desk chair, currently swivelled around the other way so its occupant could watch the fish swimming past the enormous window. At
their approach, the chair turned to reveal a short, shaven-headed man, his hands crossed across his stomach and a welcoming smile on his face.
"Angels. You made it."
"Wrong movie, Phil," Bernadette warned.
"Oh yeah." Phil took a sip from the pint of Guinness sitting on the desk. "IT Girl, Court Woman, you have an assignment."
Bernadette smiled and took up position on Phil's desk as Jo flomped into the over stuffed chair conviently located in front of it.
"So, what's it today, Boss? Fighting Big Evil? Stealing John Howard's long Johns?"
"Even better, I've received word of a possible sighting of Mel."
Jo's eyes widened. "Mel? I thought she'd escaped to Canada?"
Mel and Amanda, better known in the Underworld as The Scientist and Tax Girl had been their nemesis's...nemisi? for years. Mel had recently moved her base to Canada and Amanda disappeared into the wilds of Adelaide but they'd known the girls would turn up again. Evil never could stand to lose.
"Maybe she got cold feet?" Bernadette suggested, ignoring the eye rolls from the other two at the dreadful pun.
"Our intelligence leads me to believe that she has indeed gone to Canada, but if she was planning on retirement, it didn't last long. Word is she was involved in the recent Europe scam - you might remember it."
"The Great European Holiday Hoax?" Jo asked, leaning forward in the armchair as her interest was caught. "That one netted quite a lot of profit. Even had me going, for a while."
"And I thought you disgruntled court clerks were suspicious of everyone," snorted Bernadette. Jo glowered at her.
"Is this info legit?" she asked. "It's not another one of those stories you heard in the pub, is it? We wasted weeks hunting that fake Drop Bear Gang."
Phil looked wounded. Well, as wounded as a shaven-headed Englishman nursing a pint of Guinness can. "Anyone could have made that mistake. Anyway, who's the boss here?"
Jo muttered something under her breath, but Bernadette flashed him a smile and crossed her legs, which caused her skirt to do alarming things as she perched on his desk.
"You are," she cooed. Phil coughed and took a long gulp of Guinness.
"Oi, 'boss', how about you give us this assignment before you get too drunk to remember?" reminded Jo. Phil reached into a desk drawer and pulled out two manila evelopes.
"Better dress warm ,girls, you're going to Toronto."
(You know, for some reason I just got the idea for a new superhero team IT Girl and Court Woman. One is a Helpdesk Technician with a shady past, the other a Disgruntled Court Clerk. Together, they fight crime!)
Watch this space for further instalments. :)
***
By the way, my hair is now long enough to put into a ponytail. A very short ponytail, and I have to clip back the sides, but a pontail nonetheless. Progress!
EDIT: The first instalment of The Adventures of IT Girl and Court Woman!
By [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com] and [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com]
"Good afternoon, Helpdesk, how can I help you?"
The words ran off Bernadette's tongue with the slick ease of long practice. Day in, day out, this was what she did, helped the technologically clueless. As the stressed-sounding man on the other end of the phone started detailing about how his computer wouldn't go, she rolled her eyes and opened up her email window. She already knew what his problem was from the first three sentences, but it was always best to let them vent, the
poor dears.
Amongst the usual work-related messages, one sender caught her eye almost immediately.
"You're needed. See you in fifteen minutes.
Guinness"
The effect was electric. She interrupted the caller's complaint about the evils of technology with a set of crisp instructions and hung up before he had time to argue. Then she hastily left, telling her co-workers she was going for lunch. The fact it was only 10.30am barely raised a murmur.
Helpdesk might be what she did, but it wasn't _who_ she was.
***
"You're needed. See you in fifteen minutes.
Guinness."
"Thank Christ, I thought it'd never come," muttered Jo as she took off her headphones and dumped them on a pile of revocation applications. "I'm just popping out to the post office," she called as she swung the door open. Apathetic grunts were her only reply as she walked briskly into the hall and jabbed the button on the lift. After a certain amount of muttered swearwords, the lift arrived, and she jumped in, pressing the "Close Doors" button before anyone could follow her, ignoring the glares. The lift in motion, she pulled out her wallet and selected something that looked like just another corporate swipe card and ran it over the blank metal panel at the bottom of the buttons. A small door opened up, revealing another set of buttons, one of which she pressed.
Strange things happened to time and space.
Fourteen minutes and 24 seconds later, Jo was stepping out of the lift into the shiny futuristic headquarters of a secret organisation that few knew or could even suspect existed, several thousand kilometres off the coast of Queensland at the bottom of the ocean. From another lift stepped Bernadette. The two exchanged nods.
"IT Girl."
"Court Woman."
"Busy day?"
Jo snorted. "Yeah, right. As if. You?"
"Insane. There was a power blackout due to thunderstorms in your part of the country and we've been struggling to keep up with all the calls."
"Some people have all the luck. Well, better go see what the Boss wants."
The two heroes pushed open a set of imposingly large brushed-steel-and-wood doors at the other end of the lobby to reveal an expansive desk. Behind it was an opulent leather desk chair, currently swivelled around the other way so its occupant could watch the fish swimming past the enormous window. At
their approach, the chair turned to reveal a short, shaven-headed man, his hands crossed across his stomach and a welcoming smile on his face.
"Angels. You made it."
"Wrong movie, Phil," Bernadette warned.
"Oh yeah." Phil took a sip from the pint of Guinness sitting on the desk. "IT Girl, Court Woman, you have an assignment."
Bernadette smiled and took up position on Phil's desk as Jo flomped into the over stuffed chair conviently located in front of it.
"So, what's it today, Boss? Fighting Big Evil? Stealing John Howard's long Johns?"
"Even better, I've received word of a possible sighting of Mel."
Jo's eyes widened. "Mel? I thought she'd escaped to Canada?"
Mel and Amanda, better known in the Underworld as The Scientist and Tax Girl had been their nemesis's...nemisi? for years. Mel had recently moved her base to Canada and Amanda disappeared into the wilds of Adelaide but they'd known the girls would turn up again. Evil never could stand to lose.
"Maybe she got cold feet?" Bernadette suggested, ignoring the eye rolls from the other two at the dreadful pun.
"Our intelligence leads me to believe that she has indeed gone to Canada, but if she was planning on retirement, it didn't last long. Word is she was involved in the recent Europe scam - you might remember it."
"The Great European Holiday Hoax?" Jo asked, leaning forward in the armchair as her interest was caught. "That one netted quite a lot of profit. Even had me going, for a while."
"And I thought you disgruntled court clerks were suspicious of everyone," snorted Bernadette. Jo glowered at her.
"Is this info legit?" she asked. "It's not another one of those stories you heard in the pub, is it? We wasted weeks hunting that fake Drop Bear Gang."
Phil looked wounded. Well, as wounded as a shaven-headed Englishman nursing a pint of Guinness can. "Anyone could have made that mistake. Anyway, who's the boss here?"
Jo muttered something under her breath, but Bernadette flashed him a smile and crossed her legs, which caused her skirt to do alarming things as she perched on his desk.
"You are," she cooed. Phil coughed and took a long gulp of Guinness.
"Oi, 'boss', how about you give us this assignment before you get too drunk to remember?" reminded Jo. Phil reached into a desk drawer and pulled out two manila evelopes.
"Better dress warm ,girls, you're going to Toronto."
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 09:27 pm (UTC)Brilliant, by the way. Absolutely brilliant.
no subject
Date: 2003-11-20 12:11 am (UTC)And thank you. :)
no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 09:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-20 03:05 am (UTC)Trisha opened her eyes and blinked. "So.... dude, with the-- ya know and the thing!"
Her boss looked over at her and said, "Huh?"
"The thing that we were talking about! With the wossname? You know?" She waved her hands about and went on for another five mintues, trying to describe something right in front of her, but all that would come out were variations of the word "thing", with lots of "Duuuuuuude!"s interspersed.
The senior editor sighed and lifted a handset. "Someone call Interpol. The Blabber disease has struck again."
no subject
Date: 2003-11-20 08:29 pm (UTC)More, please?
no subject
Date: 2003-11-20 08:49 pm (UTC)