|Marcus's Secret Diary
Author: roxypony PM
UPDATED. A series of insights into the unexpectedly interesting life and times of everyone's favourite expressionless assistant to the High Commander. I try to follow the series storyline for the most part. Some OOC. Some crack. All fun.Rated: Fiction T - English - Humor/Parody - Marcus - Chapters: 17 - Words: 25,055 - Reviews: 101 - Favs: 14 - Follows: 9 - Updated: 12-29-11 - Published: 02-01-11 - id: 6707819
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Yeah my excuses for not updating are as shitty as ever, so I won't even try xD
This one kind of covers episode...jeez what are we on...5? 6? It's the one where Georgie gets captured. And a bit of the one after that. I think. I dunno man, it's been a while.
Thanks to everyone who reviewed. Marcus loves you!
Unfortunately, despite my best wishes, the choosing of Sherman did not relieve me from my Bitch Duties. In fact, I haven't seen him since the night Anna selected him from the crop of muscleheads. Either she's got him doing deep undercover work, or else he fell down the laundry hatch. Samuel casually wondered if he'd been eaten. Where does that fellow get his crazy ideas? Oh well, maybe Sherman will turn up in a few years.
Meanwhile, I had more pressing issues than locating my fellow bitch. I was rudely awakened early one Saturday morning by Samuel's face hovering about 3 inches from mine. I'm not ashamed to say I screamed loudly enough to wake the entire planet, and then gave Samuel a dazzling black eye. He screamed even louder than I, and proceeded to sit down on the floor - my floor! - and cry his eyes out. I could understand why he was upset, but he had no business being in my suite at 6:11 am. But then I realized there surely must be a serious problem if Samuel was up before 9, so I decided to hear him out. It wasn't easy, considering he can't speak coherently and cry at the same time. But within several minutes of sobbing miserably (on Samuel's part) coaxing and nodding like a phsycotherapist (on my part), Samuel was able to explain that there had been an explosion on the L.A. Mothership, with many deaths and damaged equipment and all that day-ruining stuff.
Why did I get the feeling that I'd personally have to go clean it up?
Well, I didn't have to literally go clean up the exploded ship by hand, but Anna assigned me an equally unappealing task. Joshua and I had been awarded the grand job of Fifth Column (Woops. I thought it was Sixth.) elimination. It's one of those things where she gives me a vague order and expects me to completely solve the problem. Things like that leads to incidents like the Great Duck Tape Adventure...
But that wasn't the only item on my rapidly lengthening to-do list. Because apparently Anna's monogrammed kleenexes weren't enough to let the world know she was an incredibly important person - at least in her own mind. She decided it had become necessary to appoint a person to make a speech about her upcoming speech. The appointee was myself, and the topic was *cringe* the Live-Aboard Program.
Yes, you heard me. As if the constant guided tours weren't enough, the little people would be coming to live with us. As in, sleeping in our beds, drinking from our cups, touching our stuff, and using our toilets. I asked Anna if this meant I would be getting a roomate, and made a resolution to hurl myself out of the scheming/dictating room window if she said yes. However, she did not give me a concrete answer, so I decided to hold off on the suicide till further notice.
Besides, I get to make my very own speech.
I feel my speech went exceptionally well. Of course I wasn't allowed to wear the cactus-coloured tie I'd picked for the occasion (it was confiscated by security, who stated "Sorry, Marcus. You know the rules.") and Samuel provided a muchly unwelcomed distraction by standing in the front row and loudly whispering "Don't screw up!" but nonetheless I enjoyed a brief moment in the spotlight without the merry Queen of the Vs breathing down my tie-less neck. However, I had Samuel instead, which was a whole 'nother kind of awkward - we learned the hard way that he's allergic to the shuttle's in-flight peanuts.
And to make matters worse, when we got back to the Mothership Joshua was too busy to give poor Sam an antidote for the rather alarming swelling that had overtaken his face. Joshua was busy compiling a video of random stuff to use for an 'empathy test'. Pffft, if we need to weed out the wimps from the BAMFs (BAMF - a term I learned from... never mind where I learned it) all Anna needs to do is stick 'em in a room with a Jersey Shore marathon. Then we'll see who's mind is corrupted. But she decided to go with a total devastation theme, which I suppose was much more Anna-esque. And who doesn't love watching things explode?
Even Even later…
Apparently Phillip doesn't like watching things explode. Or villages burning. Or people being chopped into little bits. Yes… my trusted advisor is a… wimp. He failed the empathy test by some tiny margin. And that was that. I know I should probably be feeling a little bit upset that he's currently being skinned as I write this, but I'm distracted by the fact that Samuel and Joshua are having some sort of hang-out…in the drug storage room…without me. I saw them scampering down the hall and demanded to know where they were going. Joshua yelled something about being late for a Jersey Shore marathon. I didn't push the issue because I loathe the orange drunkards and have no wish to partake in such a marathon, but something was suspicious… why would they be hosting it in the drug storage centre? The TVs down there utterly suck. Yes, definitely suspicious. And then I saw some black bald stranger poking around who looked vaguely familiar… but he had an ID, so of course he was legit.
Oh, what's this? My name being screamed over the intercom along with something about the Fifth Column? This might actually be interesting…
G2G BRB TTYL -learned that from Lisa.
Very much later…
BEST. DAY. EVER.
It's like my birthday came early. It's better than a trunkful of ties. It's cooler than making my own pre-speech speech.
SOMETHING INTERESTING HAPPENED.
Several hours ago, security captured a real, live, Fifth Column dude. Apparently he killed a guard (can't say you didn't have it coming, Lawence) and then had an absolute hissy fit out by the shuttle docking station. As of now he's hanging out with my torture specialist pal from the Tokyo mothership… I can't spell his name to save my life so I refer to him as Doctor Pain.
BUT THAT'S NOT EVEN THE MOST INTENSE PART.
After a while, Dr. Pain kicked me out of the interrogation room because my glare was undermining him. Or at least that's what I thought was happening. Anyway. Joshua, Samuel and I took our usual seats -popcorn at the ready- to watch Anna's official speech regarding the live-aboard program. It was pretty typical, with rampant smiling and multitudes of big happy-sounding words (gag me with a spork) until, without warning…
JOHN MAY LIVES :D
Splayed across the giant screen in all its glory. And yes, that was one of those hateful little emoticons at the end. I could practically feel Anna's rage from the other end of the ship.
Shit, my friends, is about to go down.
FFS it's shorter than I remember...
Oh yeah, i finally did the John May Lives :D. I've been waiting so long... bwaaha.
Hope you all had a lovely Christmas or whatever you happen to celebrate. AND MAKE SURE YOU CHECK OUT MY CHRISTMAS ONESHOT, That's The Eggnog Talking. For something thrown together at the last minute on Christmas Eve, it's not awful xD
Updates to come (maybe hopefully idk) for Visitors on Vacation too.
PLEASE REVIEW. EVERY LITTLE WORD HELPS :)
Peace, Love, and John May :D