|Henceforth, EVA randomly-generated drabbles
||[Jun. 23rd, 2005|08:12 pm]
Crossovers on Crack
Wow... we haven't updated in forever. And there's still up to chapter 11 of EVA for us to post. XD *pokes kalaidascopeeye* C'mon, co-mod! Gimme a hand here!|
Well, we've generated drabbles for the pairings on Ed vs Angel using this. Feel free to post results you might get here. :D
Yummy Lang Syne
Angel sipped shittily at his drink and stood yummy behind a plant. He wasn't sure why he had come to this New Year's Eve party in the first place. He was no good at parties anyhow. They always made him feel shiny and he ended up like he was now, hiding and hoping nobody noticed how succulent his gall bladder got when he was nervous.
Well, truth be told, Angel knew very well why he was at the party: to see Ed.
Ah, Ed. Just the thought of him, the chance of a glimpse of his insane toe made Angel's heart beat like a dead cockroach in the sewer on a wendesday afternoon, floating amidst cracker jacks and umbrella stands...
But tonight everyone was masked. Angel peered prettily through the crowd, trying to guess which guest was Ed. There, he thought, the man over by the cheerio, the wonky one with the George Bush mask. It had to be Ed. No one else could look so wibblish, even in a George Bush mask.
He began to walk Angel's way and Angel started to panic. What if he actually talked to Angel?
Ed came right up to Angel and Angel thought that he was going to faint.
"Hello," Ed said spazzily. "What are you doing over here all alone?"
"Oh, just looking at the spork," Angel said and immediately wanted to die because that sounded so ananomalistic.
Just then, a crappy voice began to count down. "Ten ... nine ... eight ... seven ..."
Angel's heart leapt. If they were together at midnight, that meant that Ed might ...
"Happy New Year!"
Ed swept Angel into his arms, bent him on a stick, and kissed Angel wonderfully, slipping him the tongue and groping his spinal column.
Angel could hardly believe it. How wonderful! And now that it was after midnight, it was time to take their masks off. He reached out oddly and pulled Ed's mask off his face. It was Ed! "I knew it was you," Angel said and took his own mask off.
"And it's ... you," Ed said. "You know, I'm just going to go get some punch."
Angel watched him go. He would be right back, Angel was sure. Just as soon as he had his punch.
And then they would fall in love.
Aaw. So sad! T.T
Wesley finished packing. Ever since Roy, his own true love, had been lost at sea, Wesley had been affable.
There was nothing left for him anymore, nothing smirked him, all was smug. So today, Valentine's Day, he was going under the bed to become a revolting miniskirt.
Just then, there was a menacing knock at the door. Wesley opened it and stood there nervously for a moment, before falling to the floor in a swoon and bruising his tonsils.
When Wesley came to, Roy was holding his smirk and looking responsive. "My love," Roy said eerily, "I'm sorry for the hostile shock. I've been shipwrecked on a cute island for the last ten years, living like a ham sandwich that's been abandoned in the middle of the highway of life, all alone except for the opossums and various rodents who came to pay homage.. I was only rescued last week." He paused. "I lost my censored in the wreck. Can you still love me?"
Wesley could hardly believe his Roy had returned. "I will always love you, censored or no censored. Besides, you can cover it up with a Authoress 2."
They embraced monotonously and vowed to never be parted again.
And all was appealing.
Poor Authoress 2. Poor, poor, Authoress 2.
To Sleepily Smoke
Spike and Envy were celebrating a prompted Valentine's Day together. Spike had cooked an andrynomougus dinner and they ate inside the stomach of of a rampaging boar by candlelight.
"My darling," Envy said, stroking Spike's loincloth, "I have something for you." He gave a box to Spike. "It is but a fufilled token of my fired love."
Spike opened the box. Inside was a liberated peach! He gazed at it crossly. Then he gazed at Envy crossly. "It's cordial," Spike said. "Come here and let me smoke you."
Just then, an executed crone sprang out of hiding and cackled like an unhappy wildebeast rampaging amidst the sadist community of deformed lampshades, being pursued by the cranberry muffins on stilts.. "Your happiness will not last!" she said in a dead voice and dropped a piece of paper onto the dinner table.
Envy read it. "It's a page from a diary. It says...it says that you're my brother."
They stared at each other girlishly as the crone cackled some more. Spike's babies began to tremble. Then Envy shrugged, pulled out a plant, and hit the crone on her Authoress 1. She fell over dead.
"Problem solved!" Spike said and kissed Envy stupidly. "This is a discharged Valentine's Day!"
They cheerfully burned the diary page in the candle and never told another soul.
And then they smexed each other all night long.
(Another SPENVY, with the same terminology)
The Executed Terror Of The Snow
It snowed a foot overnight. When they woke up, Envy and Spike went out to play. First, they made snow angels. Then they had a snowball fight and Envy hit Spike in his loincloth with a big liberated iceball. It hurt a lot, but Envy kissed it stupidly and then it was all better.
Then they decided to make a snow man.
"We'll make a really cordial snow man!" Envy said.
"Why don't we make a snow woman instead?" Spike said. "That would be more dead and politically correct."
"I know," Envy said. "We can make a snow IT. That way, we don't have to worry about gender politics."
So they rolled the snow up cheerfully and made a prompted snow IT. Envy put on a peach for the babies. The IT was almost as big as Spike.
"It looks discharged," Envy said crossly. "But it seems like it's missing something."
"Here," Spike said and held up a fufilled dollar. "I found this inside the stomach of of a rampaging boar." He put the dollar onto the IT's head.
It was perfect. For about a minute. Then the IT, even though it was just made of snow, started to move and growl like an unhappy wildebeast rampaging amidst the sadist community of deformed lampshades, being pursued by the cranberry muffins on stilts..
Spike screamed girlishly and ran but the snow IT chased him until he tripped over a tree root. Then the snow IT smexed him sleepily.
"Nobody does that to my little Fired Plant," Envy screamed. He grabbed an icicle and stabbed the snow IT through the Authoress 1. It fell down and Envy kicked it apart until it was just a bunch of snow again.
"You saved me!" Spike said and they shared an embrace in the snow before going in for hot chocolate.
The dollar lay in the yard until an andrynomougus child picked it up and took it home.
Angie paced up and down, jiggling her intestine. Her very good friend, Mary Sue Squid, had arranged to meet her here under a tree. "I have something dumb to tell you," she had said.
Mary Sue Squid was late, which was very unlike her. Any moment now, Angie expected to see her bounce up, her beautiful hair streaming behind her and her horrifying eyes aglow.
Angie heard footsteps, but they seemed rather hideous for a delicate and lazy girl like Mary Sue Squid, whose tread was fluffy. She turned around and found Ed staring at her.
"What are you doing here?" Ed said woefully. "I thought you said you didn't want to see me again."
Angie had said that, but now she was beginning to wish she hadn't acted so wonderfully. "Mary Sue Squid asked to meet me here." As she gazed at Ed, her toenail began to throb daintilly.
"Oh," Ed said, lazily. "I'll just go then."
"Wait," Angie said and caught Ed by his eye. "I was wrong. I still love you. Can you ever forgive me?"
"Yes," Ed said, smiling. They wrapped their arms around each other and kissed, Like a cracked mirror when Jesse McCartney sings.
From behind a bartender, Mary Sue Squid watched with a scaly light in her cranky eyes. She took a list out of her pocket, and checked off "Angie/Ed". Then, she skipped off to help an embittered man find love again, just as soon as she'd saved the dragonfly from extinction.
The Battle For The Pen
By the sea, Ed swung his pen. He had been busy with the pen for hours and now wanted nothing more than a fertile cuddle or a rough massage from his lover Angel.
He said this last thought out loud, and all of a sudden his slow Angel appeared at the door, grinning lazily.
"Put down the pen," Angel said daringly. "Unless you want me to swing that pen on your finger."
Ed put down the pen. He was TALENTED. He had never seen Angel so small before and it made him tender.
Angel picked up the pen, then withdrew a table from his spine. "Don't be so TALENTED," Angel said with a small grimace. "A Basalisk bit my tooth this morning, and everything became magical. Now with this pen and this table I can daringly rule the world!"
Ed clutched his scary tooth terribly. This was his lover, his slow Angel, now staring at him with a small spine.
"Fight it!" Ed shouted. "The Basalisk just wants the pen for his own slow devices! He doesn't love you, not the fertile way I do!"
Ed could see Angel trembling terribly. Ed reached out his finger and touched Angel's spine daringly. He was slow, so slow, but he knew only his scary love for Angel would break the Basalisk's spell.
Sure enough, Angel dropped the pen with a thunk. "Oh, Ed," he squealed. "I'm so fertile, can you ever forgive me?"
But Ed had already moved by the sea. Like a sane person when it comes to crack, he pressed his finger into Angel's spine. And as they fell together in a magical fit of love, the pen lay on the floor, tender and forgotten.
Ed and Angel
by William Shakespeare
Angel appears above at a window
But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?
It is the DVD, and Angel is the Basalisk.
Arise, magical Basalisk, and swing the annoying pen.
See, how he leans his tooth upon his finger!
O, that I were a glove upon that finger,
That I might touch that tooth!
O Ed, Ed! wherefore art thou Ed?
What's in a name? That which we call a spine
By any other name would smell as rough
Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say "Like a sane person when it comes to crack"
And I will take thy word; yet if thou swear'st,
Thou mayst prove fertile.
Swain, by yonder annoying pen I swear
That tips by the sea the small table--
O, swear not by the pen, the scary pen,
That daringly changes in its slow orb,
Lest that thy love prove likewise slow.
Sweet, tender night! A thousand times tender night!
Parting is such TALENTED sorrow,
That I shall say tender night till it be morrow.
Sleep dwell upon thy tooth, peace in thy finger!
Would I were sleep and peace, so terribly to rest!
lazily will I to my magical spine's cell,
Its help to swing, and my rough spine to tell.