Fanfiction: Deirdre

 

One day, Ponytail decided to take up art classes.
“Why?” asked his Mum.
“Because my toaster broke yesterday,” he replied.
”Oh, that’s nice, dear,” said Ponytail’s Mum, and went back to feeding the emu. Ponytail patted the emu and went to get his shiny new paints for his first lesson.
Twenty minutes later, he was standing outside the door of an art classroom in a generic adult education institution with a group of middle-aged women, who thought it was very sweet that a young man with lots of hair was interested in watercolours. Ponytail was having second thoughts, when Beardy walked up.
“Art?” asked Beardy.
“Yep. Toaster?” asked Ponytail.
“No. Kettle,” said Beardy.
“Oh.”
They stood together outside the door while the middle-aged women fussed over them. Suddenly the door opened.

“Come in, classsssss” said an immensely fat woman in a dressing gown. They all filed into the room, and she shut the door behind them. Ponytail was faintly disturbed to see that she also locked it.
“Welcome to the Tuesday evening classsss for burlesque organ playing,” she began.
“Hey, wait – this isn’t Watercolours 101?” called out Ponytail. The fat woman glared at him.
“There’s always one, isn’t there?” she snapped.
“C’mon, let’s go,” Ponytail muttered to Beardy.

“Wait a moment…” said Beardy.
“Now, while I understand that you may have intended to learn to paint,” began Lady McFat, “The fact of the mater is that LITHUANIA IS SUFFERING FROM A SHORTAGE OF BURLESQUE ORGAN PLAYERS! DO YOUR CIVIC DUTY, COMRADES!” she bellowed, tearing off the dressing gown to reveal a Red Army uniform beneath.

“Shit! Run!” yelled Ponytail, and vaulted over several middle-aged women to reach the door. When he got there, he turned around to look for Beardy, who was still in his seat.
“What are you waiting for?” Ponytail shouted at him.
“Well, I’ve always rather wanted to learn to play the organ…” said Beardy.
“Well, f*ck this shit,” said Ponytail. He kicked down the door and sprinted along the corridor, then unexpectedly fell over a cliff.

Just before he hit the ground, he woke up. After staring at the ceiling for a few moments, sentience came flooding back. He’d been at Beardy’s house, Beardy had produced some Absinthe from his overlarge pocket, and it had all been downhill from there. The last thing he remembered was collapsing on Beardy’s couch… Ponytail heaved a sigh of relief. It had all been a horrible dream.
Then, through the darkness, from the direction of Beardy’s bedroom, there drifted the terrible, terrible sound of the burlesque organ…