Inner Flame Special Episode #2: "Off Set"


This is my second feeble (or not so feeble—the first one is probably a less subtle type of humor, but this will be funny.) attempt at humor so be kind. Or sort of kind. Or not kind at all. I don’t really care, but I do like e-mail. If you want to know who the characters are read my story, Inner Flame. This story is a standalone, but it will help if you know who the characters are.

Send questions, comments, flames, etc. to me:

Email Lord Jareth
Send questions, comments, flames, etc.


Jareth walked off stage after a long speech, followed closely by Zurath and Kunari.

“Bartender!” she yelled. “Get me a martini!”

“Sure you don’t want a beer?” the bartender asked with a smirk.

“You aren’t going to let me forget that special, are you?” Jareth grumbled.

“Nope.”

“I suspected as much.”

“Just get her the stupid martini so you can take my order!” Zurath snapped.

“Aren’t you a little underage?” the bartender asked.

“Contrary to what the special stated, I *do* know what beer is,” Zurath hissed. “Give her the martini and get me a double scotch on the rocks!”

“Okay tiger, whatever you say,” the bartender said smoothly.

“Don’t call me ‘tiger’,” Zurath snarled.

“I want a double shot espresso with hazlenut syrup,” Kunari told the bartender.

“Hey, I’m just the bartender,” the bartender whined. “I don’t do coffee,”

A short person in a trenchcoat walked up to them. “You do now… I fired the coffee guy.”

“Who the hell are you?” Kunari almost yelled.

“I’m the author. I’ve decided to show up in more of my own stories.”

“Oh. Damn.”

“Now then. Phil, fix this gentleman a double shot espresso with hazlenut syrup.”

The bartender blanched. “My name is PHIL?”

The author smirked behind the high collar of the trenchcoat. “It is now.”

“Oh man…” Phil rested his head on the bar. “This is not my day.”

“You’re getting dandruff in my scotch!” Zurath shouted. “Get your filthy head off the bar!”

“Don’t slurp your martini.” Durandel turned to Jareth. “I hate it when you slurp your martinis.”

“So what?” Jareth growled. “You think I care? If you don’t like it, go sit somewhere else.”

“Yeah.” Jansentier walked up to them. “Hey, have you guys seen the author? I’m looking to renegotiate my contract.”

Jareth eyed Jansentier quizzically. “Why do you want to renegotiate your contract? Why not just kill me on your own?”

“What makes you think I want to kill you?”

“Oh come on, Jansentier. We both know that you’ve been wanting my role ever since we got on the cast.”

“True… you did get the first line in the story…”

“And you didn’t show up until Chapter Eighteen. I can understand your holding a bit of a grudge, but I’d like to keep my life.”

“Hey! Can anybody get Holly’s number for me?” Khan-reyath strolled up to them.

“Khan.” Jareth gave Khan-reyath an evil look. “For the 38th time, we don’t want to see you going around with Holly. Okay?”

“You’ve been counting?”

“Yes, Khan. I’ve been counting. Stay away from Holly.”

“Why?”

“You know damn well why. Stay away from her.” Jareth glared at Khan. “The rest of us don’t approve, and you *do* have to live with you yourself… meaning us, of course.”

Durandel walked over to Kunari and poured a bucket of what appeared to be water over his head.

“Hey… OW!!!!!” Kunari yelled. “No acid! That’s not fair! OW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Feh…” Durandel muttered. “How lame…”

Suezo, Hare and Tiger entered the room.

“What’s all the ruckus about?” Tiger growled.

“You mean you didn’t know?” Hare sneered. “This place is always like this. Everybody’s crazy, that’s why.”

An empty Scotch glass hit Hare in the face. “We aren’t crazy,” Zurath said menacingly.

“Speak for yourself,” Kunari muttered as he tried to wipe the acid off his armor. “This will cost a fortune to get fixed.”

Durandel smirked. “Well, pay for it yourself. We still owe 14,000 Golds to Vegas.”

Zurath groaned. “Don’t remind me. It wasn’t my fault, yet somehow I’m the only one who paid them anything.”

“That’s because you’re the only one here who isn’t greedy!”

“Precisely. But that doesn’t change the fact that MY GLASS IS EMPTY! BARTENDER! Get me another scotch on the rocks!” Zurath slammed his glass down as Phil came running over.

“All right, all right, I’ll get you another scotch…” He grabbed the glass and clumsily turned on the nozzle of the scotch tank. “Gawd… this job sucks…” he muttered under his breath as he filled Zurath’s glass.

“Don’t even think about quitting,” the author said ominously from the corner over the rim of a Bloody Mary.

“Now I *know* that you’re too young to drink,” Phil declared as if he’d pointed out something that nobody else could see.

“I know,” the author said coldly. “But what makes you think that I care? This is my fic, I can drink what I like.”

“Forget I said anything,” Phil said out of the corner of his mouth, “And I won’t turn you in to the authorities.”

“There *are* no authorities here, Phil. I rule all.”

“Uh… right.”

“HEY!” the director yelled. “Beer break’s over! We’re shooting in five minutes!”

“Martini!” Jareth snapped, throwing her glass at the director.

“Coffee!” Kunari yelled. “And we can’t film until my armor gets fixed!”

“Use your understudy!” the director yelled, running out of the room. It was just as well that he did. A second later large quantities of objects were thrown at where he had been standing.