The Adventures of Nick Slacker, Biker Private Eye (04/04) Date/Time: Monday / Tuesday By Knightie Brooksie Knighties used with permission SET SCENE: Inside Nick's Loft. Knighties are awake but still in their black silk pajamas, and are in various different stages of wakefulness. The smell of fresh ground coffee brewing, tea steeping, hot chocolate warming, soda cans opening and blenders whirring fill the Loft. SLACKER: Here! [Throws the soiled poets shirt onto kitchen table] Do what you want with it. I'm going to get some sleep. G'night ladies. [Goes upstairs to bedroom.] [There is silence in the loft. When the sound of the bedroom door reaches their ears, all the Knighties rush over to the kitchen table and the discarded wardrobe object. Small discussion groups form, as all the Knighties admire The Shirt.] KNIGHTIES: I've always loved this shirt. How could Vachon ruin it like this? He's just a slacker. If we could get Nick to sign this - just think how much money we could raise for Charity. We could sell it at LCA4. Then we can resell at the Gerthering! Is there going to be another Gerthering? Do you think that the stains will come out? Maybe we should leave the dirt in for authenticity. Does anyone know what those stains are? Maybe they are contagious. I don't want to know. Maybe we could cut it up into pieces and then we all could have a piece of The Shirt. [Silence. Sixteen heads swivel to look at the Knightie who uttered those words. Ginger growled low in her throat.] << Roz clears her throat to speak. "That's blasphemy! How can you think of desecrating The Shirt?" >> [More silence. BEAT Gradually conversation resumes.] KNIGHTIES: Didn't he look dreamy in it, though? Did anybody take a picture? We must have something on the surveillance tapes. Oh, I want a copy. Me, too. I want several copies. [Conversation continues along several more mundane lines as Knighties dispersed to do various things that Knighties like to do. Some Knighties were checking Nick's security system.] Do you think the picture resolution is good enough to make a screen capture into a poster say, 2'x 3'? You need a large format camera or a digital camera to get that kind of resolution. Couldn't you take a regular picture and scan it on a high-optical scanner? But you have to have a good picture first, don't you? Well that's just not going to happen with this camera! Maybe Nick upgraded his system and forgot to tell you about it. Nick? More likely Feliks convinced him to do it - or maybe Janette. But the Enforcers wouldn't allow a film record of vampires. Silly, that's only if they do vampire stuff. Well, duh, like if Nick can't do vampire stuff in his apartment, where can he? I hate to disappoint you, but the camera only points at the outside of the front door. Nothing is being filmed or taped in the Loft. How do you know? Take my word for it. So no Nick-without-his-shirt picture? No. Oh, crap. ------------------------------- [Monday evening in the Loft. The conversations continue] KNIGHTIES: I have never seen Nick without a shirt. It really wasn't Nick you know. But it was his body. That's good enough for me. He has a dreamy body. He had a big scar that went over his ribs. I thought vampires didn't get scars? He got that in the Crusades. He was wounded very badly by a Saracen. He almost died. That's not canon - that's fan fiction. But it's *good* fan fiction. Is this really the cause of all the personality switches? Can we use *bad* fan fiction as a reason for The Shirt getting dirty? It is the most plausible explanation, I think. But what about the article reporting on that biosphere experiment that ended? What article? The one that Roz found in her research. Oh. What's a biosphere? [Knighties glare] Oh, Ok, I'll go look it up. Do you think that Nick will wear his leather pants again tonight? They fit his butt so well. Does he have more than one pair of leather pants? I've only seen in the one pair from "Dying For Fame." I would think he would want to put on a clean pair of pants. Duh! Silly! They're pants not underwear. I wonder... How do you clean leather? You take it to the cleaners - it will shrink if it gets wet. But it doesn't shrink on the cow! [Silence. Knighties get up and walk away from the speaker.] What??? Where's everybody going? << Nancy comes over and softly says, "It's time for your shift in the roof top control room. Here I packed a nice dinner and some snacks for you. Everything you could possibly want. We'll come get you at the end of your shift. Now run along like a good little Knightie." >> [Monday night] [Nick Slacker, Biker Private Eye wakes to greets a new sunset. He gets up, showers, dresses all the while wild thoughts are going through his head.] VOICEOVER: (Slacker) Man this Knight-man lives well. It's not wonder he's been kidnapped. I bet his groupies downstairs would pay a significant sum of money to get him back all in one piece. And if the retainer that they are paying me is any indication, it would be a very significant amount of money. I could even act as the middleman and take the ransom money where they wanted it. Probably some offshore bank or maybe a numbered Swiss bank account. I haven't been in Switzerland in years. [shivers] Now I remember why - too up tight a country - live by time. Nobody slacks over there. Now an offshore account - The Bahamas, The Cayman Islands. Now that's prime slacker territory, if you get around the problem with all that sun. Hmmm, where else would be good? ALASKA !!! All that wilderness, and in the winter all that darkness. The Northern Lights. Makes me think of my wilder youth running with the Mississauga Indians. But, no one would arrange an exchange in Nome. [Slacker has picked out his clothing for the night. Black jeans, boots, and, and... He opens the door of the bedroom and suddenly appears in the living room behind Katrinka.] KATRINKA: Eeeep! You frightened me, Nick, er, Vachon, whatever. SLACKER: Everyone has something that they are good at. And it's 'whomever'. [Katrinka turns around to look at him and sees only bare chest. A drool puddle starts to form at her feet. All the other Knighties present stop what they are doing and stare and drool also. Slacker hears the change in the heart rhythms and feels all their eyes on him.] SLACKER: What is wrong with you ladies? Haven't you ever seen a man's chest before? I just came down to ask where Knight-man keeps his Tshirts - I couldn't find any. [Suddenly suitcases and backpacks and duffles are being opened and clothes are flying everywhere. Then just as suddenly there is a multitude of Knighties standing infront of Slacker, each one with a Tshirt offering.] [Taking his time, Slacker goes to each Knightie offering up a Tshirt. He stands very close to her as he admires and comments on the offered shirt. Since most have pictures of men on them - OK, who brought the one with Lacroix on it? - he hands those back with a smile and a quick peck on the cheek. But he has narrowed it down to three: (1) MY BOYFRIEND'S SO DUMB HE'S ONE TACO SHORT OF A COMBINATION PLATE (2) SARCHASM: THE GULF BETWEEN THE AUTHOR OF SARCASTIC WIT AND THE RECIPIENT WHO DOESN'T GET IT (3) YOU WANT FRIES WITH THAT? [After much posturing and posing with the Tshirt - suddenly cameras appear out of thin air - and recalling something he once heard about Knight-man, he choses Tshirt number three. He pulls it over his head and then goes to stretch out on the black leather sofa. Gradually the activity in the Loft returns to normal.] EPILOG VOICEOVER: (Slacker) The night was young and life was good. I'd been on the job for over three days now, and I was still no closer to knowing what had happened to Knight-man. But the pay and his pad were not bad, so I didn't mind staying on the case a night or two more. His groupies were working on a plan to get him back. There was some big bash on Tuesday night at the Moose Lodge, where they were going to make their move, and they asked me to come along and help. They even volunteered to get the appropriate undercover clothing for me for the party, so I could blend in. I missed mi casa y mi Vaqueras, but these Knighties weren't so bad. I had heard stories, and some of them might have had a grain of truth in them, but mostly they were exaggerations. I had even met some Knighties who liked to wear leather [winks at Min]. Besides, how can you not like them, they're *nice*! When this case is over, if you find you have a problem with any predernatural or otherwise bad-guys, you can give me a call. And maybe Nick Slacker, Biker Private Eye, can help. ********* END STORY ARC ************