The Man Your Man Could be Like- DRESDEN STYLE
by Taylor Hayes and Kate Wicker
"Thomas, did you mind whammie Murphy?" I demanded, staring in horror at the hardass blonde cop who was currently rolling on the ground, giggling like a schoolgirl. (Not that I would ever tell her that. I like all my limbs and organs right where they are.)
My brother smirked, shaking his elegant head. "Nope."
I glanced over at my apprentice, who projected the kind of tough chick attitude Han Solo would have killed for. She was also writhing on the floor of my front room in a fit of what looked like very painful laughter. "How 'bout Molly?"
But the bastard looked too smug for it to not be his fault.
"Okay. What the hell is going on then?"
Thomas held out a sheet of paper he had printed off. It was a short comic strip, prominently featuring… me.
I glared at the vampire then focused on the words of the comic.
Hello Ladies- look at your man, now back to me, now back at your man, now back to me. Sadly, he isn't me, but if he stopped wearing body glitter and wore a black leather duster, he could be like he's me. Look down, back up, where are you? You're on a city street, surrounded by ZOMBIES! With the man your man could be like! Look down, back up, what's in your hand, I have it, it's a blasting rod- look again! The blasting rod is now A TORRENTIAL COLUMN OF FIRE! Anything is possible when your man is Harry Dresden and not Edward Cullen. I'm on a dinosaur.
I looked up in confusion, and my puzzlement sent the Grasshopper into another fit of gasping laughter. Murph was no better, pointing at me, arm shaking from her giggles. Even Thomas let out a snort and started chuckling.
Shaking my head, I turned to the only other sane person in the room- my half-mastodan dog, Mouse. We exchanged a look, clearly agreeing that everyone else had gone crazy. Then he padded over to my side and got a look at the paper. His doggy mouth lifted in a canine grin, and before I knew what was happening, the traitor was letting out huffing barks that were his equivalent of laughter.
"Man's best friend," I muttered angrily, grabbing my staff and heading back out the door.
a/n So me and my friend Kate Wicker were hanging out last night, and before we knew it, we had rewritten the Old Spice commercial for Harry Dresden. *laugh* I couldn't resist adding a storyline and posting it. Hope you liked!