She hangs up the phone and picks up the virgin cocktail offered by the
muscular servant.  "So many 'fics, so little time."

An old codger wanders across the street.  Keen eyes peer out from under
a brown, floppy hat.  Unnoticed, the bumbling, hunched-over man smiles
craftily to himself.  "If I didn't know better, I'd say she was slipping."

Damon walked away, gesturing with a cane in mock anger at the supposedly
awful weather.

(yunoo, I was thinking of pulling a "disguise" stunt like this at AX96,
but now I've gone and given it away...  ;)

Damon Casale, scyth@andrew.cmu.edu

Damon looks up and sees saveral ships appear in the atmosphere.

Ship: Damon you will complete the fanfic or we'll shred the starter notes 
of your news fics and stop you rewriting them more than twice.

Damon: I forgot about the Vorlon Taskforce David lent her. 

Damon: Okay I'M on it.

The ships vanish.