fandomhigh | Pageant Rehearsal

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!event: pageant

Pageant Rehearsal

A sign is posted outside the Fandom High theater:

Any Person Entering
Will Be Assumed
to Be a Part of
the Pageant and
Will Be Treated
Accordingly

Inside... Dean Bristow sits, looking over some plans...

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"Very." Anakin grinned. "I liked Vegas."

"It's a great town," Angel said. "Shame I couldn't go with you. Been a while since I've been there."

"I'd say we missed you, but, you know, we didn't," Anakin said, trying to be mean again.

Damn Obi-Wan and his "be polite to everyone" lessons.

"And again with good," Angel said. "Anakin, I'm not trying to gloss over what I did. You're right. Nothing can excuse it or make it better."

"That, and the coolness of Vegas, are two things we can agree on," Anakin said. "We might have three things in common if you also think this chipmunk song is one of the strangest things ever set to music."

"I prefer Auld Lang Syne myself."

"I'm a little confused by the lyrics. Is it saying that this is the time of year to remember all the beings we've forgotten about? Because if we've forgotten, how would we remember?" Anakin frowned. "It's better than some of the songs back home, though."

"What are those like?"

"With so many planets, trends change incredibly fast. Which is fortunate when all you can get on the holonets are videos for Wookiee tree music, for instance. Or Rodian mouth flute instrumentals. Or the truly horrifying droid spoken word albums." Anakin shuddered. "Those make the chipmunk song sound like the Coruscant Symphony Orchestra."

"Is there dance?"

"Lots. I was talking to Lily and Duce about it in Vegas when we were waiting for the Cirque to start. Some of the stuff with beings who don't exist in our same kind of gravity is breathtaking. Others, like a ballet Obi-Wan made me go to with beings who have no natural sense of rhythm and a life span four times as long as a typical human, can be excruciating."

Angel nodded sympathetically. "Nothing worse than bad ballet. Except, of course, maybe this show. What'd you do to get roped into it?"

"Gave DEATH--the dance guy--some fashion advice for a meeting he was having with the Dean." Anakin grimaced. "Not a good idea."

Angel looked in the direction of the skeletal figure. "What'd you suggest? 'cause off the top of my head I'd say 'black is slimming' is a totally unnecessary one for him."

Anakin tried to come up with a way of describing that evening that wouldn't make him come out looking like an idiot and gave it up as a lost cause.

"He was determined to try his, um, feminine wiles on the Dean." Anakin swallowed. "There was lingerie involved. I'm pretty sure I'm sworn off seeing thongs and push-up bras as sexy for the rest of my life."

"I finally talked him into a long black dress and some strappy heels. The Dean, was, well, not amused."

Angel blinked. And blinked. And blinked some more.

"That... might have pre-emptively knocked out the possibility of perfect happiness for at least a month."

"Glad to help out," Anakin said. "Let me assure you that whatever mental image you're having in no way comes close to watching him strut around asking if the dress made him look sensually sophisticated or something." He closed his eyes. "It'll haunt me forever, I swear."

"That's a special kind of hell," Angel agreed. "And I've been to hell. I'd know."

Anakin looked at Angel and decided not to ask. "Uh-huh, he nodded instead." He spread his hand out to encompass the rest of the theater. "So this is punishment for you, too? Or are you a fan of general theater as well as music and dance?"

"Yes, and yes," Angel said. "Dean Bristow thought this would be a good show on my part for my redemption. Though I do actually like the theater. And Christmas."

"I'm guessing you're going to be the angel, then, because of the name thing and this school's love of the strangely literal interpretation of all things?" Anakin shook his banthabell. "I'm not sure exactly what they'll be dressing me as. I'm a little worried. I mean, if I end up as a sheep or something, it won't be pretty."

"Yeah, Archangel Gabriel. Could be worse. Could've been the baby."

For a moment Anakin looked stricken. "I'm not playing that Chosen One, dammit. I refuse to wear swaddling."

"You probably have the legs for it though."

"You think?" Anakin glared at Angel. "Wait. I'm still not doing it."

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