Silly Drabble
Apr. 18th, 2009 12:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lavanya_sixA short, not serious drabble for you all to enjoy this fine Saturday afternoon. Comment if you like.
With a sigh of satisfaction, Arthur Weasley stepped into his home and was met with the sight of his lovely wife and the smell of roasting meats. It had been a long day at the Ministry, guarding the Department of Mysteries, and Arthur had been looking forward to going home all day.
"Good evening, dear," said Molly, his wife of many years. "How was your day?"
"Oh, nothing that exciting. It just felt long." Arthur Weasley kissed his wife. "I'll be in the shed."
Molly continued to chop vegetables for the stew. "Dinner's in an hour. Please try to keep all your fingers attached tonight."
"I'll try my best, dear!"
Arthur tried not to sprint the short distance to his shed. He hadn't possessed much free time as of late, and his hobby of studying the intricacies of Muggle doorknobs and light bulbs had taken a backseat to his duties to the Order. When he wasn't working at the Ministry or sneaking in a few hours of sleep, he was running errands for Grimmauld Place. In fact, the stew Molly was preparing was meant to be taken over there, to help keep Sirius Black and Remus Lupin company. A lifetime of cooking for a large family hadn't at all prepared Molly for making meals for anything less than parties of five or more.
But tonight was even more special that just that. For tonight, Arthur had his first chance to investigate the strange mannequin he had, ahem, borrowed from the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. Yellow-skinned and covered in strange, burned clothing, the mannequin had been finished out of the Thames River following a disastrous Apparation accident. Why any witch or wizard would apparate a metal mannequin into Central London, Arthur had no idea. It had, however, been no small task to modify the memories of all the many Muggle witnesses.
"Now then," he said, pulling a severed lamp plug from the bucket he kept his cord collection in, "where's your outlet?" Arthur turned over the strange yellow mannequin, poking the two-pronged plug at random points on its exposed innards. The mannequin, when it had landed in the river, had snapped off its left arm during its high-speed impact. Rather than breaking, the arm seemingly snapped off its fittings, much like the 'Lay-Go' construction equipment Arthur had discovered several years past in a nearby rubbish bin.
After a fruitless search of the mannequin's shoulder socket and its matching arm, Arthur began an investigation of the rest of the thing's body. For a mannequin, it was an exceptionally good imitation of a human being -- skin color aside. It was, much to his dismay, anatomically accurate. Arthur made a note to never tell Molly, for fear she would dispose of the fascinating mannequin (which was evidence in an ongoing investigation, after all).
"What's this?" Arthur paused as he felt something beneath the mannequin's clothing, right along its right shoulder blade. With a wave of his wand, he cut away the charred fabric, revealing an indentation in the skin. "Is this... a switch?" Grinning with glee at his private discovery, Arthur poked and prodded the indentation, trying to figure out which way it moved. He was rewarded after his fifth attempt with a satisfying mechanical click.
The mannequin sat up. Arthur scrambled backwards, swallowing his own shock (and almost his tongue).
"Processing..." it said. After a few seconds, it climbed off the workbench and stood on its own two legs. Arthur's mouth fell agape. Belatedly, his hand fell to his waistband, blindly groping for his wand.
"Hello," said the mannequin, its voice neutral and without emotion. "Where am I?"
"M-m-my shed," said Arthur.
The mannequin looked around the shed, and then cocked its head to the left in a gesture that clearly conveyed a sense a befuddlement. "Ah. My apologies, but allow me to be more specific. Where is your shed located, Mister...?"
"W-weasley," he replied. "Arthur Weasley. Y-you're in the Burrow."
The mannequin frowned. "The Burrow? Where is that?"
"O-ottery St. Catchpole. That's in Devon."
"Devon?" repeated the mannequin, and Arthur belatedly realized it spoke with an American accent. "Devon is a large county in the southwest of England. I am on Earth, then?"
Arthur blinked. This is not the sort of questions he expected from a walking, talking mannequin. Not that he was precisely sure what questions to expect from a walking, talking mannequin.
"If my sensors are correct, the rate of gravity is consistent with Earth, or at least an M-class planet with an equivalent gravity." It sniffed the air. "I also detect several trace pollens consistent with native Earth plant life."
Arthur, who understood precisely none of what the mannequin had just said, leveled his wand at the bewitched mannequin. Only his natural curiosity for Muggle things stayed his hand from blasting the thing through his shed wall. "What are you?"
"Sir," it said, in a tone of voice that was faintly corrective, "I am not a 'what', though I am an android. My name is Lieutenant Commander Data, of the Starship Enterprise." It paused. "If I may ask, Mister Weasley, why are you pointing a stick of wood at me?"
With a sigh of satisfaction, Arthur Weasley stepped into his home and was met with the sight of his lovely wife and the smell of roasting meats. It had been a long day at the Ministry, guarding the Department of Mysteries, and Arthur had been looking forward to going home all day.
"Good evening, dear," said Molly, his wife of many years. "How was your day?"
"Oh, nothing that exciting. It just felt long." Arthur Weasley kissed his wife. "I'll be in the shed."
Molly continued to chop vegetables for the stew. "Dinner's in an hour. Please try to keep all your fingers attached tonight."
"I'll try my best, dear!"
Arthur tried not to sprint the short distance to his shed. He hadn't possessed much free time as of late, and his hobby of studying the intricacies of Muggle doorknobs and light bulbs had taken a backseat to his duties to the Order. When he wasn't working at the Ministry or sneaking in a few hours of sleep, he was running errands for Grimmauld Place. In fact, the stew Molly was preparing was meant to be taken over there, to help keep Sirius Black and Remus Lupin company. A lifetime of cooking for a large family hadn't at all prepared Molly for making meals for anything less than parties of five or more.
But tonight was even more special that just that. For tonight, Arthur had his first chance to investigate the strange mannequin he had, ahem, borrowed from the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. Yellow-skinned and covered in strange, burned clothing, the mannequin had been finished out of the Thames River following a disastrous Apparation accident. Why any witch or wizard would apparate a metal mannequin into Central London, Arthur had no idea. It had, however, been no small task to modify the memories of all the many Muggle witnesses.
"Now then," he said, pulling a severed lamp plug from the bucket he kept his cord collection in, "where's your outlet?" Arthur turned over the strange yellow mannequin, poking the two-pronged plug at random points on its exposed innards. The mannequin, when it had landed in the river, had snapped off its left arm during its high-speed impact. Rather than breaking, the arm seemingly snapped off its fittings, much like the 'Lay-Go' construction equipment Arthur had discovered several years past in a nearby rubbish bin.
After a fruitless search of the mannequin's shoulder socket and its matching arm, Arthur began an investigation of the rest of the thing's body. For a mannequin, it was an exceptionally good imitation of a human being -- skin color aside. It was, much to his dismay, anatomically accurate. Arthur made a note to never tell Molly, for fear she would dispose of the fascinating mannequin (which was evidence in an ongoing investigation, after all).
"What's this?" Arthur paused as he felt something beneath the mannequin's clothing, right along its right shoulder blade. With a wave of his wand, he cut away the charred fabric, revealing an indentation in the skin. "Is this... a switch?" Grinning with glee at his private discovery, Arthur poked and prodded the indentation, trying to figure out which way it moved. He was rewarded after his fifth attempt with a satisfying mechanical click.
The mannequin sat up. Arthur scrambled backwards, swallowing his own shock (and almost his tongue).
"Processing..." it said. After a few seconds, it climbed off the workbench and stood on its own two legs. Arthur's mouth fell agape. Belatedly, his hand fell to his waistband, blindly groping for his wand.
"Hello," said the mannequin, its voice neutral and without emotion. "Where am I?"
"M-m-my shed," said Arthur.
The mannequin looked around the shed, and then cocked its head to the left in a gesture that clearly conveyed a sense a befuddlement. "Ah. My apologies, but allow me to be more specific. Where is your shed located, Mister...?"
"W-weasley," he replied. "Arthur Weasley. Y-you're in the Burrow."
The mannequin frowned. "The Burrow? Where is that?"
"O-ottery St. Catchpole. That's in Devon."
"Devon?" repeated the mannequin, and Arthur belatedly realized it spoke with an American accent. "Devon is a large county in the southwest of England. I am on Earth, then?"
Arthur blinked. This is not the sort of questions he expected from a walking, talking mannequin. Not that he was precisely sure what questions to expect from a walking, talking mannequin.
"If my sensors are correct, the rate of gravity is consistent with Earth, or at least an M-class planet with an equivalent gravity." It sniffed the air. "I also detect several trace pollens consistent with native Earth plant life."
Arthur, who understood precisely none of what the mannequin had just said, leveled his wand at the bewitched mannequin. Only his natural curiosity for Muggle things stayed his hand from blasting the thing through his shed wall. "What are you?"
"Sir," it said, in a tone of voice that was faintly corrective, "I am not a 'what', though I am an android. My name is Lieutenant Commander Data, of the Starship Enterprise." It paused. "If I may ask, Mister Weasley, why are you pointing a stick of wood at me?"
