Dec 12: Good Omens: Fruitcake
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adventdrabblesTitle: Fruitcake
Fandom: Good Omens
Rating: Gen
Length: 200
Prompt: Regifted fruitcake
Warning: Reference to the Neil Gaiman scandal.
Summary: Aziraphale is giving away free fruitcake.
When Crowley entered the bookshop, he heard Aziraphale’s voice.
“…oh, no, my dear, this is English fruitcake, it’s good, not a brick at all, so very different from that jokey thing you Yanks have…you won’t want to gift it to your mother-in-law or launch it in a catapult, here try a sample…see…okay…have a very Happy Christmas…same to you, my dear…”
“That,” said Crowley when the front door had closed, “is going to be good for business.”
“I know,” complained Aziraphale, “but what can I do?” He gestured to a bin piled untidily with covers all bearing the same name, “Another literary hero turns out to be, well…”
“A villain?” suggested Crowley looking over his dark glasses and letting his forked tongue escape his lips just the once.
“And not the fun kind,” said Aziraphale with a pout. “Idols are meant to be worshipped.”
“Or thrown from their pedestals and dashed to bits.”
“I hate to see all the anguish, especially at this time of year. I’m giving away free fruitcake with a donation to the recycle bin.”
Crowley snapped his fingers, and a bottle appeared in his grasp. “I’ll add some brandy. For drinking, soaking, or setting things on fire.”
Fandom: Good Omens
Rating: Gen
Length: 200
Prompt: Regifted fruitcake
Warning: Reference to the Neil Gaiman scandal.
Summary: Aziraphale is giving away free fruitcake.
When Crowley entered the bookshop, he heard Aziraphale’s voice.
“…oh, no, my dear, this is English fruitcake, it’s good, not a brick at all, so very different from that jokey thing you Yanks have…you won’t want to gift it to your mother-in-law or launch it in a catapult, here try a sample…see…okay…have a very Happy Christmas…same to you, my dear…”
“That,” said Crowley when the front door had closed, “is going to be good for business.”
“I know,” complained Aziraphale, “but what can I do?” He gestured to a bin piled untidily with covers all bearing the same name, “Another literary hero turns out to be, well…”
“A villain?” suggested Crowley looking over his dark glasses and letting his forked tongue escape his lips just the once.
“And not the fun kind,” said Aziraphale with a pout. “Idols are meant to be worshipped.”
“Or thrown from their pedestals and dashed to bits.”
“I hate to see all the anguish, especially at this time of year. I’m giving away free fruitcake with a donation to the recycle bin.”
Crowley snapped his fingers, and a bottle appeared in his grasp. “I’ll add some brandy. For drinking, soaking, or setting things on fire.”
