FIC: Give Them Enough Rope
Dec. 15th, 2007 08:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ficwizeTitle: Give Them Enough Rope
Fandom: Good Omens
Prompt: 73 - rope![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
tamingthemuse
Warnings: None
Rating: General
Summary: The Forces of Evil have nowhere near the imaginative ability for anger and hatred that humans do.
Disclaimer: Good Omens is penned by Neil Gaimon and Terry Pratchett. They are both far funnier than I am, which will be revealed quickly once you read this fic. *grins*
A/N: Unbetaed. Also, I have not finished the book (so please avoid spoilers in comments). Finally, this is my first attempt to write anything in this fandom, so please be gentle.
As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated!
************************
“I don’t believe that I see your point.” The angel Aziraphale sounded vaguely confused as he poured himself another glass of red wine. Across from him, the demon Crowley pushed his glass forward and Aziraphale obliging poured more wine into his glass as well.
“It’s really simple, if you think about it.” Crowley picked up his glass and swirled the wine around thoughtfully. “Humans, being what they are, are bound to make things worse for themselves than they would otherwise be. The Forces of Evil have nowhere near the imaginative ability for anger and hatred that humans do.”
Aziraphale frowned, his brows creasing slightly as he swallowed the rich wine, tapping the fingers of his right hand against the table between them. He leaned back, crossing his legs and looking around curiously. The two ancient enemies (*FN 1) sat in silence for a while as the angel mused over the demon’s comment.
“You disagree?” Crowley seemed mildly interested, his eyes turning to follow the angel’s gaze. He saw nothing but shelves and shelves of books, which was not surprising since they were sitting inside Aziraphale’s used book store. (Of course, in all the years that Crowley had known Aziraphale, he’d never actually seen a customer in the store. He suspected that the store was a front for the angel’s book collecting habits.)
“Not in so many words, no.” The angel’s cultured voice was dry. “I have seen human’s ability to make life worse for all mankind illustrated all too vividly.” (Much to his dismay, he had never forgotten the two and half minutes in which he had watched American Idol.” (*FN 2)) “It’s just that I do not see how your plan to manipulate the parking signs in the bar districts of the world will help your side by – how did you phrase it, again?”
“By giving them enough rope to hang themselves with.” Crowley leaned forward, his eyes slightly bleary from wine.
“Ahh, yes. That was the colloquial turn of phrase you used.” Aziraphale gestured with his glass of wine, pointing at the demon with it. “But I’m afraid that I just do not see your point.”
“If you’ll indulge me a moment…” Crowley picked up the wine bottle and refilled both of their glasses, “I will illustrate with a story.”
“By all means, my dear boy, by all means.”
“Take for example the two girls that were out for an evening of fun Friday past. They undoubtedly dressed themselves with great care.” He stopped and raised an eyebrow at Aziraphale suggestively. “I’m sure that I don’t need to explain the temptations of the flesh, but correct me if I’m wrong.” The angel gave his demonic friend a glare worthy of one of the angelic host, but Crowley just grinned and continued on with his story. “Back to my tale, the two girls found a parking spot just a block from their destination. Seizing on it with glee, they parked and went inside.”
“I’m still waiting for your point.” Aziraphale picked up the wine glass again and leaned back, his legs crossing and his manicured hand tapping once more on the table.
“Three hours later, after suffering the indignities of being groped by drunken men in whom they did not have an interest, the girls left. (*FN 3) They walked back to the car and then discovered that their car was missing.”
“Stolen?” Aziraphale asked, interested slightly, despite himself.
“No.” Crowley sounded gleeful. “Towed! You see, the parking sign, which indicated that the spaces at the front of the street were actually a cab stand, was crafted very carefully.”
“Carefully how?”
“The arrow indicated the cab stand did not actually point to the street. It pointed to the store next to the parking spot. There was no way they could have known that the spot they parked in was in a tow zone.” Crowley’s laughter was muted, but he sounded particularly pleased with himself.
“You take pleasure in the most perverse things, Crowley.” Aziraphale sounded vaguely offended.
“I am a demon, after all.” Crowley finished his glass of wine and held it out for a refill.
“That story is not deserving of more wine.”
“Ahh, but I’m not finished with the tale yet.” Crowley grinned even as Aziraphale reluctantly refilled his glass. “That was just the beginning. Now comes the truly inspired part.”
“The part about the rope?” Aziraphale asked, curious again.
“Yes.” Crowley leaned back and crossed his legs, mirroring Aziraphale’s stance. “Now, the girls, who already upset and uninhibited thanks to several pints, are forced to find alternative rides home.”
“I still don’t understand the rope.” Aziraphale gave him a piercing look.
“You’re an immortal being, Aziraphale. Please exhibit some patience.” Crowley frowned.
“I beg your pardon.” Aziraphale bowed his head slightly. “Pray, continue.”
“I will continue. I don’t pray.” Crowley grinned again. “Anyway,” he continued in a rush when it appeared that Aziraphale was going to be distracted by that off-hand comment. “The girls have to call a cab, take money from the automatic teller at the bank, pay someone to retrieve their own car back, deal with the vagaries of humanity that end up in the towing business, and do all of this after being put into one of the worst possible moods imaginable. Can you not see all the possibilities here for them to cause chaos and inspire anger and hatred? It’s a brilliant plan. All I had to do was give them enough rope to hang themselves with. Natural human impulses provide the rest.”
Aziraphale nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing. “And what did they do?”
“What do you mean?” Crowley asked, blinking owlishly.
“You said that the girls had ample time to cause chaos. How much chaos did they cause?”
“Well, it’s the principle of the thing.” Crowley replied, avoiding Aziraphale’s question. He looked towards the wine bottle questioningly, but even so, he still saw Aziraphale’s knowing smile.
“I take it by your avoidance of my question, that the girls that were the subject of this story did not cause quite as much chaos as you intended.”
The demon shrugged. “Others will. Eventually.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Aziraphale smirked. “Still, it’s nice to see that sometimes when you give the humans enough rope to hang themselves, they end up using it as a life line instead.”
*****************
FN 1: In actuality, the two immortal beings had been around each other so long that they had become friends, in a manner of speaking. Primarily, they had agreed to turn a blind eye to the other’s activities, operate in separate spheres, and enjoy the finer things in life – like red wine.
FN 2: Aziraphale’s personal taste in music runs towards the classic. He had mistakenly assumed that the term ‘Idol’ related to a plan of The Enemy and after watching the show for a few minutes, believed he was right about his assumption, even though Crowley had denied it repeatedly.
FN 3: Actually, the girls left when one of the men made a comment that one of the girls found rude. She was making An Exit in Grand Style, which was promptly ruined in the next few moments.
Fandom: Good Omens
Prompt: 73 - rope
tamingthemuseWarnings: None
Rating: General
Summary: The Forces of Evil have nowhere near the imaginative ability for anger and hatred that humans do.
Disclaimer: Good Omens is penned by Neil Gaimon and Terry Pratchett. They are both far funnier than I am, which will be revealed quickly once you read this fic. *grins*
A/N: Unbetaed. Also, I have not finished the book (so please avoid spoilers in comments). Finally, this is my first attempt to write anything in this fandom, so please be gentle.
As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated!
************************
“I don’t believe that I see your point.” The angel Aziraphale sounded vaguely confused as he poured himself another glass of red wine. Across from him, the demon Crowley pushed his glass forward and Aziraphale obliging poured more wine into his glass as well.
“It’s really simple, if you think about it.” Crowley picked up his glass and swirled the wine around thoughtfully. “Humans, being what they are, are bound to make things worse for themselves than they would otherwise be. The Forces of Evil have nowhere near the imaginative ability for anger and hatred that humans do.”
Aziraphale frowned, his brows creasing slightly as he swallowed the rich wine, tapping the fingers of his right hand against the table between them. He leaned back, crossing his legs and looking around curiously. The two ancient enemies (*FN 1) sat in silence for a while as the angel mused over the demon’s comment.
“You disagree?” Crowley seemed mildly interested, his eyes turning to follow the angel’s gaze. He saw nothing but shelves and shelves of books, which was not surprising since they were sitting inside Aziraphale’s used book store. (Of course, in all the years that Crowley had known Aziraphale, he’d never actually seen a customer in the store. He suspected that the store was a front for the angel’s book collecting habits.)
“Not in so many words, no.” The angel’s cultured voice was dry. “I have seen human’s ability to make life worse for all mankind illustrated all too vividly.” (Much to his dismay, he had never forgotten the two and half minutes in which he had watched American Idol.” (*FN 2)) “It’s just that I do not see how your plan to manipulate the parking signs in the bar districts of the world will help your side by – how did you phrase it, again?”
“By giving them enough rope to hang themselves with.” Crowley leaned forward, his eyes slightly bleary from wine.
“Ahh, yes. That was the colloquial turn of phrase you used.” Aziraphale gestured with his glass of wine, pointing at the demon with it. “But I’m afraid that I just do not see your point.”
“If you’ll indulge me a moment…” Crowley picked up the wine bottle and refilled both of their glasses, “I will illustrate with a story.”
“By all means, my dear boy, by all means.”
“Take for example the two girls that were out for an evening of fun Friday past. They undoubtedly dressed themselves with great care.” He stopped and raised an eyebrow at Aziraphale suggestively. “I’m sure that I don’t need to explain the temptations of the flesh, but correct me if I’m wrong.” The angel gave his demonic friend a glare worthy of one of the angelic host, but Crowley just grinned and continued on with his story. “Back to my tale, the two girls found a parking spot just a block from their destination. Seizing on it with glee, they parked and went inside.”
“I’m still waiting for your point.” Aziraphale picked up the wine glass again and leaned back, his legs crossing and his manicured hand tapping once more on the table.
“Three hours later, after suffering the indignities of being groped by drunken men in whom they did not have an interest, the girls left. (*FN 3) They walked back to the car and then discovered that their car was missing.”
“Stolen?” Aziraphale asked, interested slightly, despite himself.
“No.” Crowley sounded gleeful. “Towed! You see, the parking sign, which indicated that the spaces at the front of the street were actually a cab stand, was crafted very carefully.”
“Carefully how?”
“The arrow indicated the cab stand did not actually point to the street. It pointed to the store next to the parking spot. There was no way they could have known that the spot they parked in was in a tow zone.” Crowley’s laughter was muted, but he sounded particularly pleased with himself.
“You take pleasure in the most perverse things, Crowley.” Aziraphale sounded vaguely offended.
“I am a demon, after all.” Crowley finished his glass of wine and held it out for a refill.
“That story is not deserving of more wine.”
“Ahh, but I’m not finished with the tale yet.” Crowley grinned even as Aziraphale reluctantly refilled his glass. “That was just the beginning. Now comes the truly inspired part.”
“The part about the rope?” Aziraphale asked, curious again.
“Yes.” Crowley leaned back and crossed his legs, mirroring Aziraphale’s stance. “Now, the girls, who already upset and uninhibited thanks to several pints, are forced to find alternative rides home.”
“I still don’t understand the rope.” Aziraphale gave him a piercing look.
“You’re an immortal being, Aziraphale. Please exhibit some patience.” Crowley frowned.
“I beg your pardon.” Aziraphale bowed his head slightly. “Pray, continue.”
“I will continue. I don’t pray.” Crowley grinned again. “Anyway,” he continued in a rush when it appeared that Aziraphale was going to be distracted by that off-hand comment. “The girls have to call a cab, take money from the automatic teller at the bank, pay someone to retrieve their own car back, deal with the vagaries of humanity that end up in the towing business, and do all of this after being put into one of the worst possible moods imaginable. Can you not see all the possibilities here for them to cause chaos and inspire anger and hatred? It’s a brilliant plan. All I had to do was give them enough rope to hang themselves with. Natural human impulses provide the rest.”
Aziraphale nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing. “And what did they do?”
“What do you mean?” Crowley asked, blinking owlishly.
“You said that the girls had ample time to cause chaos. How much chaos did they cause?”
“Well, it’s the principle of the thing.” Crowley replied, avoiding Aziraphale’s question. He looked towards the wine bottle questioningly, but even so, he still saw Aziraphale’s knowing smile.
“I take it by your avoidance of my question, that the girls that were the subject of this story did not cause quite as much chaos as you intended.”
The demon shrugged. “Others will. Eventually.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Aziraphale smirked. “Still, it’s nice to see that sometimes when you give the humans enough rope to hang themselves, they end up using it as a life line instead.”
*****************
FN 1: In actuality, the two immortal beings had been around each other so long that they had become friends, in a manner of speaking. Primarily, they had agreed to turn a blind eye to the other’s activities, operate in separate spheres, and enjoy the finer things in life – like red wine.
FN 2: Aziraphale’s personal taste in music runs towards the classic. He had mistakenly assumed that the term ‘Idol’ related to a plan of The Enemy and after watching the show for a few minutes, believed he was right about his assumption, even though Crowley had denied it repeatedly.
FN 3: Actually, the girls left when one of the men made a comment that one of the girls found rude. She was making An Exit in Grand Style, which was promptly ruined in the next few moments.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-12-16 03:05 am (UTC)I think you got the voices bang on, well done.
no subject
Date: 2007-12-17 06:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-16 10:05 pm (UTC)There's an unnecessary apostrophe ('other's') at the end, and you've put 'principal', when you mean 'principle', but they're easy mistakes to make and easy to fix, and it's a good fic overall ^^
no subject
Date: 2007-12-17 06:05 pm (UTC)