The Fireflys meet the Hawks, and Lardass

Title: Lordlardass
Author: Sandoz
Summary: The Fireflys meet some friends..?...
Rating: R
Feedback: desired.
Author’s notes: Written and posted originally on the TDR message board, it features myself (Sandoz) and some other people I know online.
*Disclaimer: I don't own anything from House or TDR and I'm not making any money off this, I'm just demented and can't stop writin! lol.

"Fuckin hell," groused the man in his floatboat of a car. He couldn't be lost. Could he? Why did the damn Clan rally have to be held so damn far away, anyhow? Sweat dripped off his shaven head from the intense summer heat. He sighed. Guess I'll just have to stop somewhere and ask for directions. Then he spotted someone at the side of the road--a hitch-hiker. Slowing, he saw that it was an attractive twentysomething lady and stopped. "Hey. Where you headed?," he inquired.

"That way," she answered, indicating the direction he was going. The man told her to get in, so she threw her backpack and purse in the back seat and hopped up front. She soon regretted it.

"I'm Larry. What's your name?," the man asked. He was in his early 30's, stout and even a bit overweight.

"You can call me Moon," she replied. She never gave her real name to strangers, and this one seemed a little stranger than most. Her first clue was the Confederate flag draped along the back of the back seat, the second was the white power paraphernalia she found in the floorboards. The pair made small talk at first, then the girl fiddled with the radio. It didn't pick up much this far into the middle of nowhere.

"So what's a pretty gal doing out all alone?," Larry asked Moon, stealing sideways glances at her.

She was going home from college because she had no money for a bus, having spent what she had on books and concert tickets, but she didn't tell him that. She merely said she was having an adventure before she had to settle down. He put his big hand on her knee, squeezing it. She slowly scooted closer to the door. "So, uh, what are you doing in these parts?," she asked, hoping to get his mind off her leg.

"Going to meet some friends," came the vague reply. Then he began his building the case for white superiority, all the while glimpsing momentarily at her tanned legs. She suddenly wanted to hit him, very hard.

"Oh look," she pointed out. "There's a sign for a gas station. Fried chicken and gasoline, great combination," she chuckled. She also wanted out of the vehicle and away from that man.

A few minutes later....
The car pulls up at a sprawling monstrosity of a building with a few gas pumps up front. Dust begins to settle as the young woman grabs her purse and things, swings herself out of the vehicle and stomps toward the store.

"Aw come on, I did give you a ride," complains Larry, exiting his side. "No need to be rude."

She stopped, whirled around and hissed, "Which doesn't mean I'll put out to whoever picks me up! Racist pig."

He thought that's how these things worked, and said so. Growling, Moon continued her walking to the gas station/museum whatever the hell the thing was. What greeted her when she pushed open the door was specimens from out of Barnum and Bailey's Sideshow of Freaks. Actually, it was sort of fascinating. Forgetting the past five minutes she lost herself in peering at the Fee-gee Mermaid, a two-headed kitten in a jar, animals and people with deformities and mutations. She looked at a clearly fake exhibit labelled 'Fish Boy,' complete with a fish tail, finned hands and...glasses. Awww!

"Whoa," declared Larry, entering the store. "Neat." He joined her.

"You folks gonna buy summin or ya gonna stand there gawkin all damn day?," demanded a rough-hewn male voice. It caused both the travellers to whip around looking for the owner of the voice. Equally rough-hewn appearing, the dark-eyed man behind the counter was bald as Larry was, broad-shouldered and of middle age. A straggly beard graced his jaw, greasepaint denoting him as a clown. One of the biggest, ugliest clowns Moon had ever seen. Slowly the two approached the counter. The man was wearing a t-shirt which read 'Bald and Beautiful' and he grinned at them as they got closer. "Well hello Baldy," he snickered, rubbing his own bare pate. Moon felt rather uncomfortable; the clown towered over the both of them and looked none too clean.

"Ah, uh...I was gonna get some gas," Larry stammered.

"I wanted to grab something to eat," put in Moon, digging in her pocket for the precious little cash she carried.

The clown introduced himself as Captain Spaulding and informed them (with a wink and a leer at Moon) that he'd just finished a new batch of tasteh fried chicken. "How do I get back on the highway?," asked Larry, who'd resigned himself to asking for directions. "I thought you could take this road north and.."

"No no no," cut in Spaulding. He explained how to get back on the main road from here, outlining the exact route Moon was going to take and had informed Larry of at which he'd snorted in disdain. She shot him a look which said 'I told you so.' He rolled his eyes.

"I had looked at a map at a rest stop and it said.."

"Son you must like a reverse Sampson, cut off all yer hair you lose all yer brains!," he guffawed much to the young man's chagrin. "Take the next right, go straight, then turn left. Ya can't miss it. Come on, I've lived around these parts all my damn life. Fuckin' tourists." Larry shrugged and accepted the directions. He just wanted to get away from the creepy guy. "So what're you doin down this way?," Spaulding asked Moon, smiling his filthy grin.