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The Merc-Slayer

5 Jul 2002 - Mprov: The Secret Life of Joey Fatone
Pairing: Joey and Brian
Words: linger; goat; cosmopolitan; hot-tempered


The suave, debonair super-spy sipped on his Cosmopolitan and surveyed the crowd. Yes, he could sense the presence of his nemesis, the hot-tempered fiend El Justino. Somewhere in this mass of seething humanity, the villain lurked, plotting his vile treachery. The fate of the free world rested on him, Joseph Fatone, 006.

Ah, there he was now, gleefully bounding toward him, no doubt thinking he could take 006 off-guard with good cheer. But a dedicated agent of MI-6 would never fall for such a transparent ploy, not when--

"Joey! Stop daydreaming. Chris says it makes you look constipated."

Joey scowled at him. "I am not... nevermind what Chris says. Since when do you listen to Chris?"

"I listen to Chris."

"Whatever, man. Did you actually need something?"

Justin nodded. "Dude, this party's boring. Entertain me."

"Isn't that Britney over there?"

"Shit! You didn't see me, you don't know me, and the stuff about the goat is all a dirty lie, got it?"

Joey nodded, and returned to surveying his flock. The fragrance of goat tended to linger after a long day in the field, but it was worth it, despite the griping of his wife, because he got to be outside in the open air.

He took a deep lungful -- ignoring the goats -- looked up at the blue, blue sky, and started to sing. "The hills are alive with the sound..."

A sharp elbow prodded him. Was it Lanci, his purehearted young adopted daughter? Joey looked down, a benevolent smile on his face.

Brian looked back. "Um..."

People were staring at him. Joey turned red, and swallowed the rest of his drink. "Sorry."

"I know industry shindigs can get boring, but you really shouldn't let yourself get that drunk..."

"I'm not drunk," Joey said sharply.

"Okay. That bored then."

Joey sighed. "Yeah, yeah, fine."

Brian gave him a concerned look. "You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah. I'll just... go find one of the guys or something. Maybe head out early."

"Good thinking." Brian smiled at him, and watched Joey walk off. Another innocent life saved, as Saint Littrell comes one step closer to earning his wings.

You can email the author at mercutio@europa.com

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