demonbelthazor | Hyperion, Saturday Night

Current Mood: drunk

Entry tags:

anders,
bridge,
chris,
demons are big babies when they're sick,
giant frakking q,
hyperion,
isabel,
parker,
phoebe,
phone call,
veronica,
xander

Hyperion, Saturday Night

Bel didn't get sick often, especially since he picked up the nifty insta-healing powers in the Wastelands. But there were a few things that could still knock him off his feet, such as, unfortunately, the common cold. And said cold turned Bel into a whiny, cranky, miserable patient indeed.

Phoebe had gone to the store to buy a bottle of medicine for him. It was the most vile thing he had ever tasted, and living in the Underworld, he had tasted a lot of vile things. But he began to feel a little better, so he figured that more of a good thing was a better thing and chugged the whole bottle.

This could prove to be a biiiiig mistake.

Especially because his cell phone was in easy reach.

[For returned phone calls (hee) and Hyperion inhabitants, and brought to you by the fact that I am sick as a dog and high on NyQuil. NyQuil, NyQuil, NyQuil, we love you, you giant frakking Q!]

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"Have you ever been in a Turkish prison?" Bel responded.

"Fortunately no. But I do have a harem girl costume." She might have to pull that out this Halloween.

"Are you trying to seduce me?" Bel accused. "Because it won't work. I'm chaste. I'm a nun."

That sound through the phone?

Was Isabel gasping for air as she laughed herself silly.

"Mother said they were all gonna laugh at me," Bel said solemnly. "We're gonna need a bigger boat."

"I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing with you," Isabel promised.

"Don't move," Bel said seriously. "There's a giant robot right behind you."

If she was still in Fandom, Isabel would take him seriously. Fortunately Vegas was a little less weird. "Will he do my laundry?"

"Maybe," Bel said. "But he won't do windows. And I think Bridge is inside him somewhere. But he's tiny because he's in the phone."

"You know? Bridge being inside a robot makes a certain kind of sense." It was the phone part that was confusing.

"But he's wee!" Bel said. "I told him Xander will love him anyway but he can be stepped on so easily!"

"Xander will protect him. Don't worry." At this point Isabel was pretty sure it wasn't a spell. Which meant only one other thing.

"Bel, sweetie? Just what have you been drinking?"

"Greeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeen deaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaath," he said. "It tastes like ass but feels soooooooooooo goooooooooooooooooood."

"Green death?" She had to think for a minute, her alien constitution meant she'd never had to try the Green Death. "OH! How much of it did you have?"

"All of it," Bel said proudly.

"It's a wonder you're not unconscious at this point." But Isabel was glad he wasn't. She'd miss the entertainment.

"The Q is my master," Bel said. "I must obey the Q."

"Well hopefully your master will let you sleep it off soon." There were probably going to be real flames when that particular crash came.

"The fog's getting thicker," Bel agreed. "And Leon is getting laaaaarrrrrger."

"Leon? That's what you call it?" Yes, she was snickering.

Bel gasped. "Is this an obscene phone call? Didn't I tell you I'm chaste?"

"Chased more then likely. But that's a level of detail I don't need."

"There is no TMI," Bel said gravely. "Only Zuul."

She was going to laugh every time she thought about this conversation. "While why don't you and Zuul get more acquainted. I'm going to go call my boyfriend and tell him all the interesting things I'm going to do to him the next time I see him."

"Diiiiiiirty," Bel snickered. "Havefunbecarefuldon'tgetstuckinmyphone."

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Hyperion, Saturday Night

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