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vocab_drabblesTitle: 'Cheeky Bureaucrats'
Fandom: Friends
Author:but_can_i_be_trusted
Rating: G
Word Count: 200
Characters/Pairings: Phoebe Buffay, Rachel Greene
Warnings: None
Notes: Crossposted towhatif_au and anythingdrabble
Summary: "I'm Fortuneteller Phoebe. Please have a seat."
Nervously, Rachel bit her lip as she entered the fortunetelling tent. The moment the flap lowered behind her, all the sounds of the fair midway beyond were dampened. Between that, and the flickering candlelight that illuminated the space, it felt as though she'd entered another world.
From somewhere deeper within the tent's confines, the fortuneteller emerged.
"Good evening," she murmured, her voice smooth and soothing. "I'm Fortuneteller Phoebe. Please have a seat." She gestured to a rattan chair on one side of a round, small table, before settling into a similar chair at the opposite side. "How can I help you?"
"Well, uh," Rachel stammered, watching as Fortuneteller Phoebe carefully polished a crystal ball. "Uh, I was wondering if you could tell me what's in store for me in the future?"
Phoebe smiled gently. "Future prognostication. Very well. I'll need you to fill out these forms, in triplicate." She unceremoniously thumped down a thick sheaf of papers.
"Huh?!" Rachel stared at them, and then at the fortuneteller. "Seriously? I have to do paperwork for a simple prediction?"
"Those cheeky bureaucrats are getting in everywhere. And don't even get me started on the hassle that comes with predicting your love life!"
Fandom: Friends
Author:
but_can_i_be_trustedRating: G
Word Count: 200
Characters/Pairings: Phoebe Buffay, Rachel Greene
Warnings: None
Notes: Crossposted to
whatif_au and anythingdrabbleSummary: "I'm Fortuneteller Phoebe. Please have a seat."
Nervously, Rachel bit her lip as she entered the fortunetelling tent. The moment the flap lowered behind her, all the sounds of the fair midway beyond were dampened. Between that, and the flickering candlelight that illuminated the space, it felt as though she'd entered another world.
From somewhere deeper within the tent's confines, the fortuneteller emerged.
"Good evening," she murmured, her voice smooth and soothing. "I'm Fortuneteller Phoebe. Please have a seat." She gestured to a rattan chair on one side of a round, small table, before settling into a similar chair at the opposite side. "How can I help you?"
"Well, uh," Rachel stammered, watching as Fortuneteller Phoebe carefully polished a crystal ball. "Uh, I was wondering if you could tell me what's in store for me in the future?"
Phoebe smiled gently. "Future prognostication. Very well. I'll need you to fill out these forms, in triplicate." She unceremoniously thumped down a thick sheaf of papers.
"Huh?!" Rachel stared at them, and then at the fortuneteller. "Seriously? I have to do paperwork for a simple prediction?"
"Those cheeky bureaucrats are getting in everywhere. And don't even get me started on the hassle that comes with predicting your love life!"
