<The Author and her all male Bishie Writing Staff enter stage left>

        The Author: The Author would like to formally apologize for the following bit of random and total insanity you are about to be subjected to. This is all the fault of the Evil Chibi Muse - though she wishes to point out, in her defense, that she *was* given permission to be completely evil therefore any actions resulting from said consent cannot be held against her in a court of law. However rest assured that when she is finally found she will be summarily beaten with a herring then locked in a room with a hundred stuffed French mooddles (and possibly some bobble heads too).

        ECM: Cowardice breeds inspiration!

        The Author: There she is! Catch the Evil Chibi Muse!

        <The Author and her all male Bishie Writing Staff exit stage right chasing a small muse who laughs evilly>



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        Brace Yourself – Almost There

        

        

        
The Author and her all male Bishie Writing Staff shamefully present:

        

        

        

        

        

        

        

        

        Ferdie da Birdie and Company in…

        

        

        

        

        

        

        

        

        

        Vampire Slayer Ferdie
(A Completely Random Production)

        

        


        

        
Chapter one:
“Are you sure this isn't some sort of horrible, traumatizing mistake?”

        

        
        “When I get my hands on Ferdie I swear I'm going to make him regret ever becoming a private detective,” Ferdia snarled as she paced in front of her (mostly intact) squad car. The only visible damage was a sizable dent in the rear driver's side door and foot impressions across the roof.
        
“I suspect he already does that daily,” her partner Squeaks replied, twitching his battered tail. The tall mouse in the police uniform rounded on the yellow kiwi perched on the hood of said squad car and currently sporting a black eye from where the door to the motel room had slammed into him. By mutual decision neither cop mentioned the singed feathers from where the coffee had spilled when the door ran into him.
        
        “Explain to me again, what you two were doing in that motel room,” she demanded, giving the yellow kiwi an annoyed look. (The Author now pauses for a moment to allow a certain yellow kiwi to boot all the hentais in the audience.)

        Bob Kiwi lowered the makeshift icepack and glared back. “I told you! It was a stakeout. We were monitoring the room next door when a sudden emergency occurred and I had to leave for a few minutes.” Though neither said a word, both cops had the same thought – only Bob could consider running out of coffee an emergency. “I had just gotten to the door when I heard Ferdie screaming and then the door flew open, Ferdie ran by at escape velocity still screaming and ran into your squad car.”

        “Literally,” Squeaks muttered.

        Ferdia shot him a look. “This is serious! Ferdie's little impromptu fit of hysterics screwed up our own stakeout and it took us almost a week to track those guys to this pathetic hole in the wall. They've disappeared again and who knows how long it'll take us to find them again. *If* they don't skip town first.”

        “We've got problems too ya know,” Bob shot back. “Iiwi will kill us for blowing this, not too mention it took me ten minutes to find that cup of coffee.” He resumed sulking while trying desperately to clean off his feathers.

        “I think you're both missing something important.” Both the bluebird and the kiwi looked over at Squeaks. “What could have scared Ferdie so badly that he'd run screaming into the streets of downtown San Viano, at night, alone and without even his equipment? Plus, where did that giant pile of ash on the floor come from?”

        
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        Completely out of breath, Ferdie stopped running about twenty minutes later. He was roughly seven miles from the motel and beginning to feel slightly safer even if he was sort of lost.

        “And Ferdia keeps telling me I have an overactive imagination,” he muttered to himself, fighting back the edge of hysteria. A few hysterical giggles escaped before he got himself back under control and sat down on a nearby bench at the bus stop. “I told her vampires were real!”

        All his life Ferdie had believed in things that went bump in the night, only no one ever believed *him*. He devoted his life to studying the supernatural and had even come face to face with his worst nightmares (one nanosecond before he ran away screaming of course). So far he'd proven the existence of a variety of ghosts, werewolves and other paranormal forces. But vampires were a whole other story. He *really* didn't like vampires (not that he was all that fond of werewolves but it's a relative thing) and having four of them suddenly materialize in his motel room had not been good for his life span. Fortunately extreme cowardice and a cheaply made coffee table had prevailed, saving his life and leaving four large piles ash on the ugly brown carpet. Still the logical course of action at that point was to run away screaming as fast as physically possible.

        However now that he was calming down Ferdie came to a new realization. “Okay, this is not exactly the safest part of town to be in, especially at night.” Decision made he set off to find the nearest open, well lit and well populated place which turned out to be a park a few blocks away. The squad car packed with irate friends and relatives found him there, sitting on one of the swings. Ferdie squawked indignantly when his older sister smacked him upside the head.

        “Do you know how much of a mess you made,” she said in lieu of greeting. Bob simply walked up and booted him hard for the coffee. Even Iiwi (who'd joined the search party) glared, feathers ruffled in anger.

        “Sorry! I was fleeing for my life and the squad car got in the way. It can be repaired. Besides, considering how long you've had this one, it's a miracle it's even intact,” Ferdie shot back, rubbing the back of his head.

        “I wasn't talking about the squad car.” Ferdia growled. “I meant the stakeout you blew! You weren't the only one at that motel on a case. Squeaks and I had finally tracked down the brains behind the car theft ring that's been working San Viano for the past month. They were meeting in a room at the other end. Thanks to the stunt you pulled, all three have disappeared and who knows when they'll resurface, let alone meet again.”

        “Sorry Sis,” he replied, genuinely contrite. “I didn't mean to interfere in your case; I didn't even know you two were there!”

        “Well our client isn't going to be too pleased that you blew *our* stakeout as well,” Iiwi spoke up, tone dry. “It will be hard to prove that guy is the one selling corporate secrets now that he's probably on to us.”

        “Yeah,” Bob echoed, tone indignant. “The agency has a reputation to maintain, ya know. You can't just run away screaming cuz you saw a spider or got spooked by your own reflection.”

        “That was not why I ran,” the offended bluebird muttered. “I was running from the vampires that suddenly appeared in the room.”

        There was dead silence for several minutes before Iiwi started laughing. Bob rolled his eyes and muttered something about getting as bad as his stupid kiwi. Ferdia and Squeaks just shared a look, both sighing as they did. Ferdia grabbed her brother, put him in a headlock, and then started dragging him towards the squad car.

                 “Just wait till I tell Ma what you did this time.”

        Off in the shadows of the trees, two figures watched the ensuing battle to get everyone back inside the squad car.

        “Are you certain *that's* the one,” the younger one demanded. The older one just nodded.

*********************


        The next morning came with the promise of another beautiful day. The sun was shining, the birds singing joyously, and – deep in one of the boroughs of San Viano, in a small but well-kept apartment – a bluebird was trying desperately to get ready for work while a pair of kiwis made the task infinitely more impossible. Beak was lending a hand with breakfast as Bob looked on, sipping his second double grandé of the morning. After the second grease fire, Ferdie decided to have cereal for breakfast (with strawberries of course – all of the bananas in his apartment had long since been saved).

        “We have a meeting with the Food Consortium today,” Bob reminded him. “Iiwi and I have already decided you'll be the one to explain to our client what happened last night. Just try not to go into one of your weird supernatural rants.”

        Ferdie rolled his eyes but nodded. Behind them Beak's head reappeared from his excavation of the lower cabinets. He withdrew a rectangular canister with a strange blue label and peered quizzically at it, a latent instinct telling him something was very wrong. “We've already found enough evidence to prove this guy is the one selling company secrets, we just lost out on the buyer, that's all. I'll convince them to give us a few more days to find out which of their competitors is bribing him.”

        “You'd better. If the client isn't pleased it will make Bobetta unhappy since she's the one who recommended the agency to them. Bobetta upset is not a pleasant thing.”

        “How can you tell the difference,” Ferdie muttered under his breath. Bob glared and was about to start booting some blue-feathered butt when they were both distracted by Beak. Having successfully pried the lid off of the strange can, he sniffed at the contents then let out a howl of outrage. Screeching something about sacrilege and heathens, he dashed out of the kitchen. Ferdie looked back over at Bob, who just shook his head.

        “The Great Banana isn't too picky when it comes to worshippers. So what else did Ferdia have to say last night?”
        
        There was a deep sigh. “She called me after their shift ended. Apparently the chief wasn't too pleased about what happened. They got pulled from the case and reassigned.”

        “To what?”

        “She said something about the penguin case.” Ferdie shrugged. “She wasn't too clear, what with all the snarling.”

        Bob snickered. “Having to track down some lunatic knifing stuffed penguins to people's cars is a bit degrading for the two of them, I guess.”

        “Tell me about it!” Suddenly, someone knocked on the front door. “That's probably Ferdia and Squeaks now.”

        The bluebird rose and strolled across the living room where he disengaged three of the six professional quality steel locks before opening the door to behold a middle-aged owl wearing spectacles and the type of medieval clothing only found at bad sci-fi conventions. The owl smiled most pleasantly at Ferdie and bowed.

        “Good rising to you young sir,” the owl greeted him. “Would you be Master Ferdinand…”

        Ferdie shrieked and slammed the door shut before he could finish. After a few moments there was a second, more tentative knock. Bob, who'd casually strolled into the living room at the sound of Ferdie's shriek (the lack of a Ferdie-shaped hole in the wall or other sounds of breakage had indicated the situation wasn't *too* severe) bypassed the irate bluebird and opened the door himself. He merely blinked at the sight of the strange looking owl.

        “Forgive me please, I did not mean to disturb the whole household,” the owl said, tone apologetic. (All right all of you, stop chanting CLUE!)

        Bob shrugged. “No problem, he's always like that.”

        The owl looked at Ferdie. “Uh, Master Ferdi….”

        Ferdie cut him off. “It's just Ferdie,” he growled.

        “Ah yes, of course,” the owl replied. “Allow me to introduce myself.”

        Ten minutes later Ferdie nudged Bob awake as the owl finished the recitation of his name and credentials.

        “Pleased to meetcha,” Bob responded. “Weird name.” Ferdie winced.

        The owl smiled sheepishly. “Yes, it is a rather silly quirk of the Learned. We tend to think it makes us sound more impressive.”

        “Learned,” Ferdie questioned.

        “The scholars of my land.”

        “Come on in Professor,” Bob said, stepping aside to let him enter the apartment. Both he and Ferdie started in surprise when two cloaked figures followed the 'Professor' in.

        “My traveling companions,” he explained, motioning to the shorter of the two who pushed back the hood of her deep brown cloak.

        “A cat,” they said simultaneously in astonishment.

        The young female calico smiled shyly at them, probably no more than thirteen or fourteen years in age. She curtsied properly, her eyes focused firmly on Ferdie.

        “My niece Hazel,” the professor proclaimed proudly. “Hazel this is Master Ferdie and…” he looked at Bob.

        “Bob Kiwi,” he said vaguely in response, still marveling at the idea of a *sentient* cat. “Oh, and that's Beak.” He pointed at the larger brown bird, who waved in a distracted manner before returning to the letter he was composing.

        “It is an honor to meet you Master Ferdie,” Hazel whispered, gazing at Ferdie in sheer hero worship. The poor bluebird swallowed and shifted uncomfortably. Fortunately, the Professor decided to continue the introductions.

        “And this is Ravyn.” Ravyn threw back the hood to her red cloak to reveal a mouse much closer to Ferdie's age with jet-black fur. She nodded to the others before speaking to the professor. “We haven't much time,” she quietly informed him.
        
        “Yes, yes, of course.” The Professor turned and looked directly at Ferdie, expression and tone now deadly serious. “What I am about to tell you may seem most absurd but I assure you young man it is the truth. Our mission here is of the utmost importance. You see my companions and I are not from this land.”

        “I knew it,” Bob exclaimed. “You guys are European, right?”

        It was a toss up as to who gave him the weirdest look.

        The Professor hurried to correct him. “No, you misunderstand me. We are not from your world at all.”

        That got a heartfelt groan out of the yellow kiwi. “Not *more* aliens! No one is getting me on another spaceship; I don't care how desperate the situation is.”

        However the Professor only looked confused at his statement. “Alien? Spaceship? What are these things you speak of?”

        Ferdie finally spoke up then. “Okay, I'm guessing you guys aren't from outer space then. So where do you all come from?”

        “We come from a parallel world closely linked to you own,” the Professor replied.

        While Ferdie did a little victory dance at having yet another if his theories proved correct, Bob groaned again.

                 “Why does the weird stuff always find you,” he snarled at the bluebird, who currently looked like he was having some sort of spastic attack.

         “Are you alright Master Ferdie,” Hazel ventured to ask, tone full of concern. He nodded sheepishly and stopped dancing.

        After eyeing Ferdie with concern, the Professor continued his explanation. “Hazel is a witch and she has mastered the ability to create portals that bridge our two worlds. It's really quite an impressive feat for someone her age. Anyway, we came to this world to find a very special warrior spoken of in our ancient prophecy. An ancient, master vampire is slowly taking over our world and only this chosen warrior possesses the ability to defeat him. You, Master Ferdie, are that warrior from the prophecy. You *are* the Slayer.” (The Author now flees in terror from the screaming hordes of Joss Whedon fans.)

        As Ferdie passed out cold, there was a second knock on the door.

******************************


        “That idiot had better be awake,” Ferdia growled to her partner as she pounded on the door to Ferdie's apartment a second time. Finally the door was opened and both cops froze at the sight that greeted their eyes. Bob was bent practically double, laughing hysterically, while Ferdie was sprawled on the floor unconscious. Off in the corner, an ink-stained Beak was almost foaming at the mouth as he vented his anger on a helpless piece on paper, and two of the weirdest characters they had seen in a while were staring calmly back at them from their place across from Bob. Then the door slammed shut behind them. Both whirled around to come face to face with an all black female mouse wearing a deep red cloak.

        Squeaks was the first to recover. “Bob, what's going on?” He made the demand while Ferdia eyed the strangers in distrust.

        Bob eventually managed to calm down enough to begin an explanation, however he kept collapsing back into laughter so the Professor joined in, attempting to explain. After much time and many corrections, the two cops managed to get the full story - including just why Ferdie had fainted. Ferdia nudged her brother awake, then put him in a chokehold to keep him from fleeing. She looked up at the Professor, who was looking more and more confused as time went on.

        “Are you sure this isn't some sort of horrible, traumatizing mistake,” she inquired dryly while Squeaks desperately tried to keep from laughing as well. Bob was simply a lost cause.

        However the Professor merely gazed back and nodded solemnly. “There's been no mistake,” he assured her. “Master Ferdie here is our savior, the one spoken of in the prophecy. I've studied it for much of my lifetime, indeed I am considered the expert on it among my peers, and I know of what I speak. Perhaps Master Ferdie is an unlikely sort for a hero, but he is the Slayer.”

        “Wait a minute,” Bob screeched, shoving his way forward. “Whadya mean hero? Ferdie can't be the hero of the story, *I'm* in it! I have an ironclad contract with the Jennies.” He pulled out a huge stack of legal forms. “These clearly state that in any fic involving Bob Kiwi, that's me, *I* am the hero, no exceptions.”

        “He's never read the fine print, has he,” Squeaks muttered to Ferdia, who rolled her eyes.

        “But this isn't a Jennies fic,” Ravyn informed him. “Read the opening credits, this one is done by the Author and her all male Bishie Writing Staff. She just got permission from the Jennies to write it.”

        Bob stared at her in abject horror. “You mean we've been FANFICCED!?” Next to him Ferdie fainted again. “How could the Jennies allow this to happen?”

        (Cue the Jennies staring in rapt adoration at the cases of caffeine, pixie sticks and Men of Slayers calendar she was sent as a 'gift'.)

        “Betrayed for a sugar high and eye candy. Oh, the humanity.”

        (Excuse me but can we please get back to the fanfic already in progress!? Sheesh.)

        “Okay, let me get this straight,” Ferdia rose to her feet as she spoke. “You want *my brother* to come back to your world and vanquish some evil fiend – something no one has been able to do so far – all because you believe he's this great warrior spoken of in an ancient prophecy that you don't even have with you as proof.”

        Ravyn glared at her, angry at the snide, sarcastic tone. “We could hardly bring it with us on our travels,” she shot back. “The scrolls that contain the prophecy are old and fragile. They speak of many things, including the Slayer and damage to any part of them would be a catastrophe. For even the three of us to travel to your world was dangerous. The master vampire watches constantly and would do just about anything to capture the Slayer. Master Ferdie has already been attacked once by his minions, last night in that strange building with many rooms.”

        “Told you there were vampires,” Ferdie muttered. Ferdia sent him a look.

        “Believe us or not, that is your choice, but the Learned One would not make such a mistake. We need help desperately and Master Ferdie is the only one who can save us.” Ravyn looked directly at the quivering bluebird. “Please come back to our world and help us. Many stand ready to fight this evil monster, but they need a leader, one they can believe in. *You* are that leader, you are the Slayer. Without you we have no hope. Will you come with us?”

        Ferdie opened his mouth, about to explain that he had no intention of ever willingly going near anything that might potentially endanger his life (like a pair of scissors), which meant this master vampire and his legion of minions was absolutely out of the question. However before he could say a word, someone spoke for him.

        “Of course he will go,” Beak said from behind them, startling everyone who had forgotten his presence. They all turned to look at him, except for Ferdie who looked down from his sudden new perch on top of the light fixture dangling from the ceiling. “Friend Ferdie is a good and brave person; he would never refuse your request. To leave others suffering at the hands of cruelty would be a terrible injustice, especially when he could help. So, when do we leave?”


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| Retreat to the Fan Submissions Page! | Onwards to Chapter 2 |

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