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PostPosted: Sun Apr 11, 2004 6:30 pm 
CRFH FanFic: Basket Case
This story is based on characters and relationships from the webcomic College Roomies From Hell!!!! (hereafter CRFH) by Maritza Campos (hereafter The Goddess). Dave, April, Roger, Mike, IWFA, Marsha, Margaret, Diana, Paul, Blue, Dover and their friends, enemies and relations are copyright The Goddess Maritza Campos and are used without permission.

This story itself and anyone else not named in the above list (or in the CRFH archives) including, but not limited to, DelSombra and the K-9, are copyright me, FreeFlier. Boardies are, of course, copyright themselves and are used by permission, though their actions here are mine.

Do not redistribute or repost from the CRFH forums or such other CRFH website as The Goddess, in her infinite wisdom, may assign.

*****

Basket Case – A CRFH Fanfic

Mike Green grins widely.

Time, of course, immediately commences dancing the “Bunny hop”.

Mike, being Mike, doesn’t notice.

Not that he would have cared. After all, he had managed to get an Easter basket assembled for Marsha without her or either of his roomies noticing, and that made up for any peculiar behavior in clocks and watches.

Besides, that new radio/atomic clock would reset itself in a few minutes anyway. (Margaret had been utterly fascinated . . . until she discovered that, despite its name, the clock was powered by a plain old cord and picked up radio time signals from the atomic clock near Denver.)

This basket was so special he didn’t want anybody else knowing everything that was in it. The top layer was entirely traditional and thus okay, but underneath . . . he especially didn’t want Blue finding out about that stuff! She has enough kinky . . . ah, exotic ideas as it is.

Which reminds him, it’s time, past time, to read little sister’s secret journal again. She gets such . . . interesting ideas . . . That last one . . . Marsha had really liked it . . . loudly . . . That memory turns Mike’s brain to mush for a moment.

He hides the basket carefully before he goes next door, ignoring the odd sweet-medicinal smell in the hallway; after all, in this building . . .

Dave casually carries his bags past Mike. After all, the groceries are on top . . . He pays no attention to the unusual aroma either.

He locks the bolt, then empties the top of the bags onto the counter and the bottom onto the table. Now if he can just keep Mike from snooping . . .

He grins as he easily separates the stuff into two piles. Even the fake grass to line the bottom of the baskets is different . . . and if you think finding olive-drab fake easter grass is easy . . . The chocolate “ammunition” was actually easier!

Of course, the under-contents of the other big basket were easier to get, but talk about embarrassing! She’d better appreciate this! Dave brainwarps briefly as he considers the likely “consequences” of Blue appreciating that basket.

Considering the pair of radically dissimilar baskets, the smile fades. He knows he should have only gotten one . . . but which one? Blue’s better for him; Margaret still doesn’t have a clue about what she did to him after Mike moved him in with her . . . Even though it wasn’t her fault . . . But it’s not that easy to give up on the dream . . .

“Besides, she still needs friends, if not a boyfriend . . .” Dave whispers to himself, stalling. “And she has no family.”

Shaking off the momentary depression, he assembles the third, smaller, basket. April needs friends too, and with this one there’s no nasty angsty emotional baggage . . . at least for him.

As Dave finishes, the phone rings.

“Okay, Dave, they’re gone. Now what is this?” April asks resignedly.

“I’d like you to hide something for me. I don’t want Mike finding it.”

“What? An easter basket for Blue?”

“Yep. He’d have a fit.”

“Meh, why not. Just cover it up . . .” The blonde’s voice sounds like she’s about to cry.

“Sure.” Dave drops the basket into an empty paper grocery bag and folds the top shut. “There. Can I bring it right over?” That third basket’s sounding like a good idea; he bags it too. The other one he’ll leave out to decoy Mike, since its intended recipient is obvious.

“Sure.” April’s voice is even deader now.

“See you in a minute.”

“Yeah.” Depressed voice.

Dave shakes his head as he hangs up. April’s so alone now, but after that mess at the circus . . . “Orgy horses!” he snorts.

****

Blue wrinkles her nose at the weird medicinal smell in the hall, thinking ‘What is that?’ She shrugs. It’s not as bad as the stink in the guys’ apartment, anyway.

“Greeneyes!” Blue pounces on Dave as he opens the door. “And Mikey!” She takes the opportunity to twit her brother, but he gets a hug too. “Now where are we going dancing tonight?”

Mike rolls his eyes. She’d said she and Dave had broken up . . . but . . . Oh well. He can’t control her anyway, and making Marsha happy is more important, but that basket Dave made for Margaret . . . He starts to explain where they’re going, but stops, realizing he’s lost his audience.

“Where did you get chocolate bullets?!” Blue giggles. “I mean, talk about phallic chocolates . . .”

Mike blinks astonishment as Dave explains. Blue knows? The world’s a very strange place . . .

“And this is mine?” Blue pick up the bag, but amazingly, doesn’t peek.

“No. It’s for April. She’s had a rough time lately and . . .”

Mike tunes him out with a roll of his eyes. How anybody can like that psychotic blonde . . .

*****

“What is that smell? It’s getting worse.” Marsha grumbles. Dancing had been great, even if Mike had been totally obsessed with trying to keep track of Blue and Dave . . . It’s not like he’s going to be able to stop Blue, he told her that himself!

“Don’t know. Sort of a sweet chemical smell?” Dave replies. “It’s been around for a day or two.”

“Smells more like medicine to me.” Blue contributes, then goes back to nibbling on Dave’s earlobe. He’s not resisting . . .

Marsha giggles as Mike blows gently in her ear. “Mike!” She grabs the sneaky tentacle. “I’ll just tie this in a knot . . .”

Blue grumbles as Mike remembers his earlier decision to put her in Marsha’s apartment. She’d hoped he’d get drunk enough to forget . . . At least here they don’t have to go to church in the morning.

*****

The firm knock on the door hammers its way into Mike’s head. It feels like someone’s beating on his brain. Whoever that is is going to die . . . but quietly! He can’t take any noise . . .

He opens the door, and stops mid-snarl. Er, maybe not . . . That guy’s awful big . . .

The big man standing there flips open a badge wallet. “DelSombra. DepAg Security. We’ve gotten some weird reports. Have you had anything strange happen here in the last few days?” Dark glasses cover his eyes.

“Uunnhh. Eh, what kinda . . . I mean, who’d notice?” Mike knows he didn’t drink that much . . . so why is the hangover so bad?
Dave staggers into the bedroom doorway. “Unh . . . who you?”

The shaggy black K-9 standing beside the stranger looks at Dave, then at the bathroom door before Roger opens it. It goes on point suddenly, looking fixedly at the kitchen table, topped by three easter baskets. Mike’s not seen them before . . .

“Where’d those come from?” Dave asks suspiciously. If Mike’s gotten into the baskets he made for Margaret and April . . . No, those aren’t the ones he fixed. The labels . . . he crosses and read them. ‘Mikey’ and ‘Davey-lover’ in Blue’s handwriting, ‘Roger’ in . . . hmm, Diana’s?

When he checks, the baskets for Margaret and April aren’t in the cupboard any more.

DelSombra looks to one side; an odd voice whispers “It’ss here, it’ss here . . .” with an accent like frying bacon.

Mike peers around the doorframe; the figure there looks not quite human. The very conservative FBI-style suit is right, but the fit isn’t anywhere hear as good DelSombra’s . . . only a moment later, it is . . . Strange oily shadows slide across a strange, wrong-looking face.

“You’re sure, NT?” DelSombra asks.

“Yess, yessss . . . I ssmellsss it . . .”

“It’s been here, but I’m not getting anything right now, boss.” A young asian man is down in front of the girls’ door, staring at some kind of instrument. An amber light blinks slowly.

“Nighthawk, don’t tell me we missed it again!” DelSombra seems irritated by that idea.

“Mike, did you mess with this stuff?” Dave demands.

Before Mike can make his brain function enough to answer, DelSombra asks Dave “Are those easter baskets? And are they not where you left them?”

“Uh, yeah . . .”

“Great. It’s been and gone.”

“What in the seven . . .” Yelling is not a good idea. That hammer’s back, it’s driving spikes into Mike’s brain, and Roger growls in pain.

The girls’ door opens. “Be quiet, go away . . . Awk!” Margaret’s warning ends in a painfully loud squawk as the burly blonde man next to the door takes her pistol away with one smooth move.

“Give that back!” she demands in a hoarse whisper.

Mike recognizes the signs: she’s hungover too, even though she didn’t go out the night before.

Blue peers over Margaret’s shoulder, wide-eyed.

The blonde man expertly ejects the magazine and clears the automatic. “As soon as I’m sure you’re not going to shoot me with it.”

“Give it back now!” the brunette growls . . . quietly.

“What’s going on here! You can’t just barge in to our apart . . . ment . . . and . . .” Mike trails off, they haven’t . . .

“Barge in? I knocked on the door and you answered it. I haven’t even asked . . . yet. We are tracking something, and we’d like to make sure it’s not in your apartments, though. Might we have a fast look?”

“What are you looking for, anyway?” Marsha asks over Margaret’s other shoulder.

Further inside the girls’s apartment, April’s voice asks “Where did these come from?”

The chinese man flips open a badge wallet with his free hand. “Nighthawk. Department of Agriculture Security. We’re tracking an escaped experiment. May we check to make sure it’s not hiding in your apartment?”

“Nighthawk!” DelSombra looks annoyed.

Margaret considers him blearily; before she can answer, Marsha quavers “Is . . . Is it a mouse? An experimental mutant mouse?”

“No. Rabbit, actually.”

DelSombra sighs and looks back at Mike “May we s-check your apartment for the escaped specimen? It’s the only thing we’re interested in, and if we obtain entrance under false pretences, anything we find is fruit of the poison tree, and inadmissible in court.”

As Mike considers for a moment, Marsha squeaks “Okay, get it out of here!”

DelSombra waves the K-9 in when Mike consents; it only takes him . . . no, her . . . a moment to go through the guys’ apartment and come back to the door, carefully avoiding Roger enroute. She sits down, looking at the big man expectantly. He nods. “Okay, it’s been here, but it’s gone again.”

“Mike, can you come here please?” Marsha calls. Blue adds her voice too.

Everybody goes down to the girls’ apartment, even the search team.

“It’s been here, recently, but I don’t think he’s . . . it’s coming back.”

“Probably not.” DelSombra agrees gloomily. “It’s learning fast. Those idiots!

“Aahhggg, my head.” April complains.

“Take two tylenol.” Nighthawk advises. “That’s what seems to work best. Two for everybody that spent the night here would be a good idea.”

“What is this thing?” Mike demands as April and Marsha hand out tylenol and water to the roomies.

“Looong story. It’s gone now, so you should be okay now.” DelSombra advises.

“Make it a short story.” Mike replies, and gulps his pills.

“We’ve got the time. And why are the easter baskets important?” Dave grumbles.

“Dave, thanks for the easter basket, but how did you get it here?” April inquires, fighting tears. After the way she’s been acting . . . Dave still likes her enough to . . . “I mean, Blue’s was here, but the other two . . .? And why’s my purse open . . .?”

Margaret produces another pistol as the shaggy black searcher comes back out of the bedroom with her. “Yeah. Explain this.”

Marsha looks around, and gasps when she finds her purse open too.

DelSombra snorts, amused. “Ooookay . . . Nobody’ll believe it though. Theo, give her her other gun back.”

The blonde searcher hands Margaret’s first pistol back and she makes both of them disappear.

“Try us.” Mike snaps. The tylenol’s hitting pretty fast, the jackhammer’s down to just a rattle now.

“I didn’t . . . They were in the cupboard . . .” Dave waves at his apartment.

The search team is mostly smiling now. “It’s the specimen. It did it.”

The roomies all look at DelSombra incredulously.

“Hey, I did tell you no-one would believe it.”

They have to concede that point.

“It moved them around while you were unconscious. It does that.”

“You said it was a rabbit. Why would a rabbit do that?” Mike questions.

“Well, somebody got a bright idea. Personally, I think he was drunk . . .” DelSombra explains.

“With him, more likely high.” Theo adds. “Not that he needs to be high to be stupid.”

“True, too true. Anyway, he decided to create a gene-altered rabbit. But not just an ordinary glow-in-the-dark bunny, no . . . He couldn’t do that . . . no . . . ” DelSombra shakes his head.

“Bun-Bun. It had to be that rabbit.” Nighthawk supplies with a twisted smile.

The couch catches most of April’s involuntary spray of water. “Bun-Bun?! Bun-Bun?! Was he nuts?!”

The searchers all laugh. “Yesss . . .” NT squeezes out. “Nutss, oohh yessss . . .” NT seems to be glowing faintly in the dimness . . .

“Fortunately, he didn’t get the attitude right . . .”

April and Blue both laugh at that, rather hysterically, then look at each other, clearly thinking ‘She reads that webcomic?

“Yeah. That would have been . . . interesting.” Theo comments.

“At a safe distance from breakables, maybe.” Nighthawk adds.

“Safe distance being usefully measured in light-years, and planets being classed as breakables.” DelSombra expands, with a rueful shake of the head. “Anyway, he got a rabbit.”

“With . . . expanded organic – ah, built-in - capabilities for . . . chemical warfare.” Theo again. “A nice concept really . . .”

“If you’re nuts!” April replies.

“Oh, that he isss . . .” the ethereal NT replies.

“So, this rabbit has . . . gives off . . .” Margaret blinks rapidly, beginning to understand, and continues, “Some chemical that knocks people out.”

“Yes. An old anesthesia, actually . . .” DelSombra answers.

Roger interrupts with a choking noise. “NO! Don’t tell me . . .” He trails off into retching as DelSombra nods ruefully.

“I’m afraid so.” He rubs his temples above the dark glasses and grimaces. “I’m afraid you have been robbed . . . by . . . The Ether Bunny.”


*****


The End (Thankfully!)

-----

Wolf-who-watches wrote:
"One notes that one is not a stupid-thing-that-looks-like-wolf! One is NOT!"

One notes that.

--FreeFlier


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