Mission: LxC: The DinoSue Strikes Back

[rc45]

She posts another chapter; we post another sporking. Almost entirely written by tea_fiend while agenttrojie was at work.

Original 'fic: Land Before Time: Littlefoot x Cera (Chapter 33)
Author: LBTwriter
Sporked by: tea_fiend and agenttrojie
Rating: M

For anyone interested, details of theropod reproductive organs can be found in this paper: http://www.mnhn.ul.pt/geologia/gaia/29.pdf I know Apatosaurus aren't theropods but this is enough to emphasise that the author's details of everyone's sexual organs are WRONG WRONG WRONG and that we're right to kill her characters in inventive ways.



Late March, HST

'Ack!'
Agent Paddlebrains jumped at her partner's yelp of terror, and thumped her head on the underside of the bunk. Rubbing her head, she reversed, and glared.
'What is it?'
Trojie didn't respond in words. She was too overcome by whatever was demanding her attention on the console, and could merely splutter
incoherently.
Pads brushed the detritus of hair and dust off her hands, making a mental note to actually hoover sometime, then wandered over to take a look.
'LBTwriter? That's... familiar. Why is that familiar?'
Trojie was still incoherent, though she clearly had enough wits about her to flail ineffectually while shuddering. Paddlebrains peered closer.
'Hang on. This is... Littlefoot x Cera. I thought we killed that. In fact I distinctly remember it.'
Trojie burbled.
'I mean,' Pads continued, 'getting trodden on by an Apatosaurus isn't the sort of thing one forgets in a hurry.' She rolled a cigarette and settled down to watch Trojie's spasms of horror.
Eventually, they subsided. Not, thankfully, into weeping; Pads had never seen her partner cry before, and didn't have a clue how she'd deal with it. Murderous rampages were much easier. Fortunately, Trojie appeared to be building up to one.
'I'm going to hurt her,' she hissed.
'Marvellous,' Pads replied. 'How?'
'First, I'm going to change her genitalia for that of a crocodile, and then I'm going to put her in a river in crocodile mating season. Then after that, I'm going to change her genitalia for that of a seal, and she can join a harem for another mating season.'
'Very creative. I like it,' Pads said, impressed. 'You should make a list. Of all the horrible things you're going to do to her.'
'Lists are your thing, not mine. And then I'm going to feed her live scorpions.'
Pads handed her partner a notepad and a pen.
'Write it all down. Never know when it might come in useful. And while you do that, let's have a dekko at the Words.'
Grumbling, Trojie printed them out. Pads quickly snatched the Words and settled back to read, figuring that, at least this way, she could deftly portal them past any moments of biologically implausible rage-inducing dino-porn, and possibly prevent Trojie's brain from actually exploding.
She read.
Oh dear. It didn't look good. Eugenics, non-con, more psych textbook speech... At least the adult Apatosaurus didn't seem to feature as heavily as they'd done in Pads's past. Perhaps they could leave them be?
Trojie was scribbling frantically, muttering under her breath. 'And then, with the rabid baboons with diarrhoea and cholera, in the river...'
No, the Flowers wouldn't like that at all. The continuum must be restored to its original state, which meant - Pads sighed - they were going to have to assassinate two, possibly three, fully grown Apatosaurus, and an adult Triceratops.
'I think, maybe getting her foot trapped in a giant clam, so she drowns slowly...'
But how? It had taken eleven of them, plus a horse, last time. Though Pads couldn't say for certain, she was willing to bet there was absolutely no way any Agent would let themselves be coerced into helping again. She rolled another cigarette and pondered, as her gaze drifted down the Words.
'And then an indricothere stampede while she's got her feet encased in concrete and can't run... Are you alright?' Trojie asked, distracted from her list by Pads choking on her cigarette.
'Oh Glod....' Pads threw the Words as far away as she could. They weren't terribly aerodynamic, and floated down to the floor by her feet. Trojie reached for them. 'No!'
'But-'
'No, no, it's fine, really. I just... um... swallowed smoke.' Pads grabbed the Words again and shoved them into her pocket. 'I'll be back soon,' she said, lighting another cigarette with trembling hands. 'You keep working on that list.' And, shuddering, she left the RC.
Trojie turned back to her list.
'Perhaps being chased by phorusrhacids, maybe Diatryma...'

***

Pads wandered aimlessly through HQ, her mind taken up with ways to kill dinosaurs. After only a few minutes' distracted mumblings, she found herself in the cafeteria. Presumably her subconscious had recognised her urgent need for tea.
Helping herself to a cup, she settled down at a corner table to consider. Nukes would work, although admittedly they wouldn't leave the continuum precisely as Disney intended it to be. She liked the idea of a bomb of some description though. And, of course, exploded dinoSue would make a lovely barbecue...
An Agent slid into the seat opposite Paddlebrains.
But it might be a little messy. Hmm. They could rig up some sort of nets to catch the flying chunks...
''Lo Pads.'
No. The point was to be in and out as fast as possible, for the sake of Trojie's sanity if nothing else. Scratch the barbecue then.
'Are you alright? Your hands are shaking a bit.'
It wasn't like HQ was likely to have any decent mustard anyway. Nets weren't such a bad idea though. Catching the 'Sues would mean Trojie could inflict some torture on them; Pads was sure she'd enjoy that. It would be practically therapeutic.
'And your eyes are sort of glazed.'
And then there were the little ones. Easier to take down, but the Ali-Sue in particular needed to suffer...
'Pads!'
She jumped, and looked up at her companion. It was Agent Ansela, of the Department of Floaters. Pads grinned weakly in recognition.
'What's up?' asked Ansela. 'You look traumatised. More so than everyone else, I mean.'
'If I tell you, do you promise not to run screaming and hide in a cupboard?'
'That bad?'
'Worse.'
Ansela patted Pads's arm sympathetically. 'You're in Bad Slash, aren't you? I make no promises vis-à-vis screaming, running or hiding.'
'Technically it's not slash. It's...' She crushed the remains of her cigarette, her seventeenth since reading the Words, underfoot, unwilling to share the horror. 'Hang on. You work in the Stargate continuum a lot, don't you?'
'Yep. For my sins. Why?'
'D'you reckon you could get me some explosives?'

***

'And I can't forget jigger infections and some parasitic worms...'
The door to RC#45 flew open. Trojie looked up from her list, now running to seven pages in increasingly messy handwriting.
Paddlebrains stood in the doorway, her arms piled high with metal box-things and an enormous grin plastered across her face.
'Bag, please.'
Trojie slung it over, one eyebrow raised in inquiry.
'Don't ask. It's a surprise. You're going to love it,' Pads said, smiling happily as she dumped the metal contraptions in the Bag.
'Your pockets are oddly lumpy,' Trojie commented. 'Should I not ask about that either?'
'Nope. What disguise did you use last time you were in there?'
'Iguanodon.'
'Sod that,' Pads said with a dismissive wave. 'Let's go as something with big pointy teeth.'
'Deinonychus?'
'Which one's that?'
'Like Velociraptor, but bigger.'
'Sounds good. If you'd care to do the honours?' Pads indicated the console, and Trojie obligingly began fiddling with the controls.
'Have you still got the Words?'
'Yep, and no, you're not looking. You already did your Duty; thirty two chapters of it. I'm not exposing you to Words like that again.'
Trojie eyed her partner shrewdly.
'It's bad, isn't it?'
'Like you wouldn't believe.'
'From this author, I'd believe anything.'
'Point. On the plus side, it's only one chapter. Shall we?'
Trojie obediently opened the portal, shouldered her Bag to cries of 'Be careful with that!' from Pads, and without further ado, they returned to the Land Before Time.


They landed in greyness; not the Generic Grey of HQ, but a swirling, ominous grey fog.
'You started at the beginning?' Trojie asked, inspecting her new claws.
'Yep. We've got work to do.'
'I don't even know what you've got planned.'
'Bag,' Pads demanded, and Trojie handed it over. Pads began rummaging inside it. 'You know,' she said, pulling out a life-size cardboard cutout of Kurt Cobain, 'this would be,' she hauled out a set of mysterious bubbling jars, 'a lot easier,' she dumped what appeared to be a set of fluffy green pom-poms by the jars, 'if you didn't keep so much crap in - is that...?'
'What?'
'A kitchen sink,' said Pads, hauling the offending porcelain washbasin from the Bag. Trojie shrugged defensively.
'You never know when it might be useful.'
'Quite.' Pads finished her rummaging, and straightened up, once more holding the landmines Agent Ansela had furnished her with. 'Set these out-' she examined the Words, '-I don't think it really matters where, the geography's pretty nondescript. Anywhere over there,' and she waved at the imposing cliff looming behind them, barely visible in the mists.
As they laid out the landmines across the characterless grass, the air trembled, and a booming Vox Dei caused both the ground and the cliff to shudder.

Well, I haven’t posted for a while, so here’s your treat. An extra long chapter.

'Hell,' Trojie grumbled. 'This is not my idea of a treat.'
'Hell!' Pads echoed, scrambling backwards as a chunk of the cliff above them fell away. The sharptooth that had been occupying it, against all laws of physics and narrative comedy, failed to splash, but rather lay in a crumpled heap before the two Deinonychus Agents. Trojie started forward to investigate, but Pads pulled her back. Moments later, several adult dinosaurs lumbered up to inspect the corpse.

“Why would it do this?” Grandpa longneck wondered out loud to the others. “Couldn’t it see that it would die or at least be seriously injured if it jumped?”

'I see her narrative style hasn't improved,' Trojie hissed, flexing her claws. The large, sickle-shaped claw on each foot particularly pleased her, although her other toes and her fingers had not missed out on razor-sharp hardware either.
'Can you work the Dictaphone with those claws? We ought to do a charge list.'
'Certainly.' Trojie clicked the machine on. 'One, killing an innocent sharptooth to further a non-exist plot. Two, poor characterisation.'

“It must have been forced to come here.” Said Mr. Threehorn. “There is no way that a creature would resort to this kind of suicidal activity unless it had no other choice.” “I believe that the food source in the mysterious beyond has been decreasing and the sharpteeth may try to come here in great numbers in order to survive.”

'He's basing this theory on what, exactly?' Click. 'Three, using Mr Threehorn as an exposition device for nonsensical and ill-thought-out transparent plot development.' Click. 'And what's that you've got?'
'The detonator,' Pads answered, grinning as much as her new pointy-toothed face would allow. The effect, Trojie had to admit, was impressive, even if it did give her flashbacks to her old partner, Soul. Trojie's eyes widened, and she mirrored the grin.
'Oh please, please, please let me?'
'Of course. But charge list first.'
They observed in silence as the adult dinosaurs discussed the impending sharptooth invasion. When Mr Threehorn announced his intention to tell Cera about it, Pads handed the detonator to Trojie.
'We may want to back up a little. I've no idea how strong these things -'
BOOM.
Both Agents ducked as the wall of heat and sound passed over their heads. There was an agonised scream from one of the adult dinoSues, mercifully cut short, and then - rain?
'Oh, that is beyond disgusting,' Pads announced as the shower of dinosaur blood splattered over them. There was a squelch, and she turned to see Trojie, bloodsmeared, with a lump of dinoSuvian flesh sliding inexorably down her flank.
'Pretty damned cool though,' she said, still grinning manically.
'Never let it be said I'm not good to you,' Pads said, taking the detonator back and stashing it in the Bag. 'Onwards!'
'Hang on a mo,' Trojie protested.
'What?'
'No point wasting good meat.' She caught the chunk of Sue-meat as it slipped from her knee, and threw it to Pads, who dropped it unceremoniously into the Bag.
'I'm not volunteering to clean this, you know.'
'I know. We'll have a barbecue when we get back, get some newbie drunk, and persuade them to do it.'
'Liking this plan.'
'Shall we head back then?'
Pads shook her head. 'We're not finished yet. This was the easy part...'
'Oh, Glod.' Trojie succumbed to the urge to collapse in a quivering heap of overly squicked dromaeosaurid, but only for a moment, before she pulled herself back up again, shoulders straight and jaw set. 'Let's get on with it then.'

***

They portalled past Littlefoot's day, as he spent it wandering about being bored and doing nothing much. Five minutes of it was enough for a charge.
Click.
'Four. Wasting my precious time with this pointless ambling about. Five. Breaking my brain.'
Click.
Eventually Littlefoot fell asleep, and Pads had to forcibly restrain Trojie from disembowelling him there and then.
'You'll get your chance to try out those claws, I promise. Duty first, though.'
There was a rustling in the indistinct bushes behind them, and Ali appeared. This time it was Pads who had to be held back.
'What's got into you?' Trojie asked her as Pads growled and tried ineffectually to reach Ali-Sue. 'Not like you to be this violent.'
'You'll see,' Pads said ominously. She made it sound like a gypsy's curse. 'Glods, you'll see, and then it'll be you wanting to remove her unlikely genitals and stuff them down her throat.'
Moments later, Trojie understood.

“I’m in love with you Littlefoot.” She said plainly. “I have been since the day we met.” “I know you love Cera, but the two of you have no real future together.” “You are of two different species, and two different species can never be an acceptable couple in society or reality.”

'No points for political correctness,' Trojie observed. Click. 'Six. Suggesting dinosaurs practised eugenics.' Click.
'It's not quite eugenics,' Pads pointed out from her position underneath Trojie, who had elected to stay put until her partner could stop hissing and making disturbing slashing motions in the direction of the dinoSues.
'No, but I can see it heading that way.' Click. 'Seven. Speciesism. Eight. Making Ali a bigoted little shit.' Click.

Ali bent down and started to put Littlefoot’s penis into her mouth.

Pads, from her prone position on the floor, became aware that Trojie had gone very, very still.
'Deep healing breaths,' she muttered in a soothing tone. Trojie appeared not to hear her.
Click. 'Eight. Non-consensual dino-porn. Nine. Badly-written dino-porn.' Click. Trojie's voice was worryingly steady, although Pads, glancing upwards with some difficulty, could see her nostrils flaring impressively.

Ali couldn’t talk because his penis was in her mouth. He instantly got erect. He couldn’t help it. Ali was so much better at that than Cera was. Littlefoot spread his legs to give her better access to his penis.

The weight pinning Pads to the floor abruptly vanished as Trojie launched herself, claws first, at the Ali-Sue. The Dictaphone clattered to the floor. Pads ignored it in favour of leaping after her partner, just barely succeeding in landing on Trojie's tail and throwing a scaly arm around her neck. A scuffle ensued.
'I think you broke the Dictaphone,' Pads said, when Trojie had been sufficiently subdued. It was a good thing, Pads reflected, that she'd opted in favour of the net in the end; Trojie was trussed up underneath it and hissing softly. She was also getting a feel for the claws, using them to slice through the strings of the net one at a time. They were fortunate that the scene wasn't a long one, otherwise the young dinoSues would certainly be eviscerated before the charge list was fully compiled. Pads wasn't sure if she'd complain if that happened; Ali and Littlefoot's mating was getting painful to watch.
She retrieved the Dictaphone, and carefully wiped the mud off it. It wasn't actually in pieces, so she gave it an experimental shake. Something inside it went 'groing'.
'Oh dear. Guess we're just memorising the charges and typing them up when we get home.' Pads turned her attention back to the dinoSues.

Littlefoot rolled over onto his back. His penis slid out of Ali's mouth and stood erect. Ali didn’t waste time. She quickly sat down on his erect penis. Littlefoot’s penis easily slid into her vagina and she quickly slid it in and out of her several times.

'Click.' Trojie's voice, low and menacing. She had once again gone very still, and was watching with narrowed eyes. 'Ten. Rape. Eleven. Mammalian genitalia on dinosaurs, again. Twelve. Lack of understanding of the biology of erect penises. Click.'
Pads would have raised an eyebrow if she'd had one in this shape. Trojie still managed to catch her confusion.
'They're not heat-seeking missiles. Those things require guiding, as it were,' she explained. 'Otherwise it's liable to get snapped off, what with the weight of a juvenile Apatosaur on it.'
'By the same token,' Pads added, 'rolling over like that with his inaccurate bits in a mouth with that many teeth is never going to end well.'
'Click. Thirteen. Forcing Sues to undertake actions which, under normal circumstances, would result in emasculation. Click.'
'Surely that's a good thing to inflict on Sues?'
'Not these Sues. The only person allowed to torture them like that is me.'
'Oh look,' Pads exclaimed in an attempt at distraction. 'It's Cera.'

Cera came rushing out of the nearby bushes and rammed Ali as hard as she could. Ali flew off of Littlefoot and slid on the rough ground and was left unconscious. Cera went in for the kill. Littlefoot was running behind her.

'You know, maybe she's got some potential after all,' Trojie remarked thoughtfully.

“No Cera, you can’t!” he exclaimed.
Littlefoot darted out between Cera and the unconscious Ali. Cera stopped in her tracks, in a mad fury.
“She practically raped you!” she shouted.

'Or maybe not,' Pads objected. 'That certainly didn't look like 'practically rape' to me.'
'Definitely non-con,' Trojie agreed.
'Click?' Pads suggested.
'Let's see. Fourteen, poor characterisation leading to random though admittedly in this case admirable acts of violence. Fifteen, lack of recognition of the concept of no meaning no. Click.'

“Well, she didn’t use physical restraint.” Said Littlefoot. “She certainly doesn’t deserve to die for it.”

'Too bad,' Trojie growled. 'She's going to.'
Cera chose this moment to start screaming at Littlefoot.
'Definite potential,' Trojie mused.
'Click,' Pads reminded her. 'Sixteen. This may be only my second exposure to this continuum, but I'm willing to bet that's completely out of character.'
Trojie nodded as unimportant waffling of the Suvian persuasion filled the air. Then Littlefoot departed after Cera, leaving the wounded Ali to her own devices.
'Please tell me I can kill her now,' Trojie begged, pausing in her shredding of the net to glare at the Ali-Sue.
'Nope. We can still pick up a couple of charges on her later.' Trojie sagged disconsolately. 'Never mind. We're past the worst of it, at any rate.'
'Can we portal to the end? I don't know how much more of this I can take.'
'But you're doing so well!' Pads protested. 'I thought for sure you'd've blown a gasket by now.'
'You underestimate my almighty squick-resistance.'
'Well you won't be needing it.' Pads pulled the Words out of the bag, and scanned the rest of the scene, though she was loath to call it that, as so far as the Words indicated, all of the horror they had undergone this day was one scene. 'Click,' she muttered. 'Seventeen. Wanton abuse of the English language. Click.'
'You realise,' Trojie pointed out conversationally, 'that we're going to have to portal?'
'Why's that?'
'Because if we're to follow the Sues through the rest of the chapter, you're going to have to take this net off me. And the moment it comes off...' She looked pointedly at the now-slumbering Ali and carefully drew her claw across the air in front of her throat. Pads sighed.
'Alright, alright. It's not like they do anything interesting anyway. It's just rambling on about their relationship and Cera realising Littlefoot is her One True Love.'
'Let me see,' Trojie demanded. Pads handed the Words over, against her better judgement. Trojie scanned them. 'Click. Eighteen. Wholly implausible - hey, d'you think that can be a charge?'
'I don't see why not, although we'd have to apply it to the entire fic.'
'Cool. Nineteen, blatant lack of understanding of the mechanisms of love and relationships, twenty, continuing to talk like a bloody textbook, twenty-one, making Cera be absolutely pathetic and wussy as penance for finally actually showing some spirit. Click. Portal to the end now? Please?'
'There's still Ali's mum to take care of.'
'Pshaw.' Trojie waved a claw dismissively. 'By the standards of this fic she's supersaurianly in character. Leave her be. Unless you've got any more explosives?' She sounded hopeful, but Pads shook her head sadly.
'We used them all earlier on. I've got these though.' From the Bag, she produced some rather lightweight rifles.
'You're going to shoot Littlefoot-Stu?'
'With a tranquiliser, yes.'
'It'll take a lot to knock him out, even if he is only little,' Trojie said, eyeing the tranquiliser gun somewhat dubiously.
'Not with these babies,' Pads said, inserting a dart into a rifle and tossing it to Trojie. 'While you were making your list, I went on a little... detour.'
'Dare I ask?'
'Nowhere terrifying. Well, not to you, anyway. Personally I'll be having nightmares for weeks.'
'You have nightmares anyway.'
'Worse ones. I nicked these,' and she stroked her gun lovingly, 'from the Jurassic Park continuum. There's enough tranqs in them to take down a T. rex.'
'Excellent!' Trojie clapped her paws together. 'Lock and load?'
'Something like that,' Pads agreed, fiddling with the remote activator. 'Come on. Let's get you out of that net.'
As the portal sprang out of thin air in front of them, Pads carefully lifted the net from her partner, and grabbed her.
'You don't have to manhandle me, you know.'
'Let's just say I don't entirely trust you at this point,' said Pads, and shoved Trojie through the portal.

***

They reappeared, dizzy and disorientated, by what appeared to be a mobile tree trunk. Several of them, in fact. The Agents looked up, and realised it was, in fact, Ali's mother, wandering off contentedly despite having been concerned about her daughter's whereabouts only moments previously.
'Let her go for now,' Trojie told her partner, who was glaring at the Apatosaurus.
They turned their attention to the young dinoSues.

"She must have ran away because she was afraid of her mother seeing her all bruised up like that." He said.
"Yeah." agreed Cera. "We'd better go find her."

'Click, twenty-two, giving dinosaurs goldfish memories, click,' Trojie said. 'Why is she suddenly concerned? She was raring to kill the slut just now.'
'Plot device?' Pads suggested.
'That or the author's got no idea how to nurture tension and negative emotions.'
'No matter. Look, there's Ali-Sue.'

The bruises had darkened significantly since Littlefoot had last seen her. She looked like she had fallen off of a small cliff.
"Ali, you look really bad!" exclaimed Cera.

'Click, twenty-three, unnatural perkiness unbecoming to a dinosaur,' Pads said.
'Click,' Trojie added, 'twenty-four, bad biology again, to whit, causing a Triceratops to inflict mere bruises when ramming another dinosaur at full tilt.'

"How the sharptooth-crap am I supposed to explain this away?!" exclaimed Ali.

'You know, I think we've seen enough,' Pads commented.
'Click twenty-five insanely stupid swearing does this mean I can kill them now?' Trojie said, all in one excited breath.
'You've done your Duty,' Pads told her gravely. 'This is your reward.' And she turned to the dinoSues, raised her tranquiliser gun, and fired. 'One down,' she said, as Littlefoot collapsed with a dart in his neck. She quickly reloaded, paying no attention to the whizz of Trojie's dart and the thump as Ali hit the ground.
'One to go,' Trojie crowed gleefully. Another whizz, another thump, and Cera joined her fellow 'Sues in chemically-induced unconsciousness.
'All yours,' Pads said, waving graciously at the prone dinoSues. 'Mind if I lose the disguise now? These claws really aren't suited for rolling.'
'Knock yourself out.'
'Oh, ha ha.'
As Pads, minus the disguise, settled back on a convenient rock and resumed her quest to contract lung cancer by the age of 25, a shimmer, as of a heatwave, began rising from the unconscious 'Sues. It wavered, becoming opaque, and coalesced into the hated shape of the Author.
There was a scream from Trojie as she launched herself at the Wraith, claws flashing. Unfortunately, she sailed right through it, and landed, panting, at Pads's feet.
'I am the writer of the Littlefoot and Cera fanfic,' the Wraith announced.
'We noticed,' Pads spat, as Trojie, incandescent with rage, tried desperately to slice open the belly of a creature made of nothing but smoke and poor punctuation. 'We've got a charge list for you. Well, we did, but we accidentally broke the Dictaphone, and I for one can't be arsed listing all the charges from memory, so let's just say 'bad biology' and leave it at that, shall we?'
'You can't just bolt mammalian genitalia onto dinosaurs, you complete and utter moron!' Trojie snarled. 'Did you even know that not everything has anatomy like that? Have you ever seen a reptile? Did you crack a single book before attempting to write this fic? Have you ever studied biology? Do you even bloody fucking CARE?!'
'I know it's not scientifically correct,' the Wraith whined, its misty edges stroking the dinoSues in a forlorn attempt to revive them. 'I didn't want to put the characters through that.'
'And yet putting the readers through logistically and logically impossible sex that would scramble their brains from sheer WTF is perfectly acceptable?'
Trojie, meanwhile, had composed herself long enough to retrieve the accoutrements of a first class exorcism from the Bag.
'I didn't want to be too explicit,' the Wraith continued, and both Agents spluttered at its naïveté.
'I will finish this story if it's the last thing I do,' declared the Wraith.
'Oh, it will be,' growled Trojie, brandishing the Cambridge University Press's Dinosaur Eggs and Babies. 'Avaunt, ye spirit of unscientific ignorance and lack of research! The power of the Cambridge University Press compels you! Begone from this place so that I may rend, tear, and dissect thy evil works in order to demonstrate their unfitness for survival and use them as examples of thy evil ways! The power of TRUTH compels you! The power of ANATOMY compels you! The power of CLADISTICS compels you!' Trojie paused for breath, as the Wraith wavered and trembled before her. She adjusted her grip on the book, and drew a deep breath. 'The power of VERTEBRATE PALAEONTOLOGY compels you! AVAUNT!' The Author-wraith finally, mercifully, dispersed, whining as it went. Trojie dropped the book and stalked towards the unconscious 'Sues.
'Well,' said Pads. 'Jolly good show, and all that. Marvellous exorcism. Are you going to...?' She indicated the comatose dinoSues. Trojie nodded, grinning wickedly. 'Excellent. I'll leave you to it then, shall I?'
'Don't you want to watch?'
'Nah. There's enough blood in this Bag to keep me going. I'll go and find us a barbecue. Dinoburgers all round when you're done.' Pads opened a portal, threw the remote activator to Trojie, and stepped through.
'Don't forget to write up the charge list!' Trojie called to her partner's disappearing back. 'Now, to business.'
She extracted her seldom-used Polaroid camera from the Bag, and a thick bundle of cloth, bloodstained, that resembled nothing so much as a mechanic's roll of spanners. Using the Remote Activator to shed her disguise (as opposable thumbs were about to become a necessity), she unrolled the bundle to reveal a collection of razors, scalpels, scissors and forceps that would have made Sweeney Todd rub his hands with glee.
With a grunt of effort, she managed to roll Ali-Sue over onto her back, and started making the first incision.
Some time later, Pads returned, still frantically puffing away at the calming tobacco. Trojie leapt up like a startled ghoul, covered in blood and holding up handfuls of something that Pads tried very hard not to look at too closely.
'Look at this! Look at this! She's managed to give Ali a uterus! Live birth! Live birth in sauropods! What in the name of hell am I s'posed to do with this?! This is a cladistic nightmare! Fallopian tubes!'
'Um. Right.'
'And this!' Trojie turned to the spreadeagled corpse of Littlefoot and picked up something else that Pads hoped against hope was just a cucumber that someone had left carelessly on the ground. 'This penis actually has the full mammalian musculature! There's no trace of a cloaca! The bladder has had to be completely replumbed to do this!'
'Trojie, dear, don't you think it might be time to go? It's getting dark.' Pads spoke gently, as to someone who was standing on the edge of a roof.
'The Polaroid has a flash. I'll be fine.' Trojie turned back to her dissections. Pads sighed, and hefted the copy of Night Watch that she'd been hiding behind her back.
'This is for your own good,' she said, taking aim. Trojie ducked.
'Wait a minute!'
'I'm not hanging around, and nor are you. This is a bloodbath.'
'But what about her?' Trojie pointed at Cera-Sue, who was beginning to stir groggily.
'What about her? Come on, there's beer and food and some new recruit's even cleaned your Bag.'
'I can't just leave her.'
'Yes you can, it's easy. We just step through the portal!'
'No. I want to recruit her.'
'Trojie, a month ago you killed her.'
'But this time I want to recruit her.'
'In another month's time you may have to kill her again.'
'But this time I want to recruit her. She can be an Agent.'
'She's a bloody Triceratops!'
'A Triceratops with spirit! Come on, you saw how she went for the Ali-Sue. She'd make a brilliant Assassin.'
'And how exactly do you plan on explaining her to the SO?'
'We have Agents of all species! There's even a giant sentient centipede! A Triceratops won't make him even blink. And I want to rename her Marsha.'
'Of all the names in all the continua, why Marsha?'
'Triceratops was first described by Othniel Charles Marsh. It's a tribute to a great man.'
'...You're not going to let this one go, are you?'
'Nope.'
'Fine, but you're in charge of getting her through the portal.' And on that note, Agent Paddlebrains left the Land Before Time, hopefully for the final time.
Trojie settled down and began tinkering with the Remote Activator. Beside her, flies began to settle on the eviscerated corpses of the dinoSues.


Agent Ansela and her merry arsenal are used with permission of ansela_jonla; the Wraith's words are taken from the author's (retarded) response to Neshomeh's review on The Pit.

Comments

[chelonianmobile.livejournal.com]

Could probably also do with giving Marsha language lessons of some sort so she doesn't continue to speak in monotonous bad grammar. Molly Rath might befriend her, though we'll probably have to tell S&S to stop referring to her as a dragon since Mossflower has not yet progressed very far in the field of palaeontology ...

[agenttrojie.livejournal.com]

Agreed on both counts. I have this picture in my head now of Molly Rath riding on Marsha's back through HQ. Cute!

[chelonianmobile.livejournal.com]

Of course. *squee* (Molly and Moses are free for anyone to use if you want them - S&S are not because they aren't mine, but the kids can be played with at will.)