
https://powerrangersfanon.fandom.com/wiki/Power_Rangers_Zeo_Good_As_Gold_Scorpion_Rain_Edition
Surprised nobody’s thought of doing this already, or at least have yet to share anything publicly. Taking a few sequences from my recently attained Zyuranger DVDs, I peiced together my version of what the intended ending for Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers might have looked like before the order came down to increase the episode count for the first season, and from there, season renewals that have lasted more or less ever since.
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Unauthorized Short Trips is the first book from PLANET MONDAS PUBLISHING, it comprises thirteen short stories centered on something that’s a little dear to me…and something that is most assuredly ‘over there’ in terms of fan reception….namely Thraham, the pairing coined by the few fans in support of it for The Doctor and Graham.
A collection of short Doctor Who stories written entirely by me. Some are prior works, and some are brand new to the collection.
This fic is credited and dedicated to the words and teachings of Neil Gaiman and J. Michael Straczinski.
It could still keep her up at night.
The thunder.
She wondered even to this day what kind of lightning it was, there were types.
She often thought about decision making, how drastic she could make one, whether she could look for it in the thunder, she imagined how the lightning would react.
She inserted the key in the motel door and unlocked it; she slipped in quietly, as the room was pitch black, shrouded in almost liquid dark. The only prevalent light coming from a muted and still active television displaying nothing but static.
She could vaguely make out a heavily breathing lump on the bed, the distinct aroma of salad dressing and salami clung to the room’s atmosphere.
Daphne quietly walked over to the bed, sat gently on the edge, and slipped off her shoes.
As she proceeded to remove her sports jacket unbutton her shirt, she took a quick glance at Scooby, who was tossing and turning in his sleep, positioned near a half-open dresser with various sheets and shirt hanging out from it.
She contemplated walking over to the dresser and rocking Scooby gently so as to calm his nerves, she could tell he sensed when the weather was steadily changing outside, and that they would be in for a rough night.
“How’d it go?” came a stirring voice from behind her, the lips that uttered it still adhered to the front of the pillow as the face that they belonged to refused to turn.
“Go to sleep” Daphne said, taking off the shirt and gradually stroking the strands of facial hair strands on the unshaven man’s chin.
Norville opened one eye and glanced at her.
“Why close my eyes? I’m already dreaming” he joked.
Daphne smiled warmly, she crawled closer to sit next to him.
“I told Fred I couldn’t cover the story” she replied.
“Did you tell him why this time?” Norville asked.
Daphne placed one arm on the pillow, resting her head comfortably against it, her free hand wrapped itself warmly around Norville’s head and shoulder, and she pulled herself closer towards him.
“Fred wants it all to be real again. Like he thought it’d be the first time we went to that island with feral zombies and cat people. He wants to believe so badly what we face together has a foothold in reality, he doesn’t want to pull more masks off and then have all our stories are about normal people putting themselves through extraordinary guises to prove some point exclusive to their notions fuelled by disillusion, anger, or greed”
“But he knows it’s our shtick right?” Norville replied, “You’re telling the viewer something that you hope will stay with them, something honest, something important, something vital…”
“He’s sleep walking Shaggy, the problem is we have to wake up in our own lives, we tend to fall asleep in our lives, we do the same thing today as we did yesterday and the day to follow, every so often you have to jolt yourself awake”
“So he wants to…what? Do things that really scare him?” Norville suggested.
“Exactly, at the moment, this precious moment in our careers, he thinks I’m telling them, the audience, lies. We’re telling them that we’re chased through corridors by something that doesn’t exist. That it’s all some grim fairy tale we’re telling every time to scare little kids. There’s no such thing as Red Riding Hood, the wolves can’t talk like your grandmother”
“They can sure talk like me, look at my career” Norville responded, which gave Daphne a bit of a tickle, and she let out a small and harmonious giggle that warmed his heart as much as it did hers.
“Did I ever tell you why I never tell him that?”
“Would he believe it?”
Daphne retracted her arm from his face and reached down the back of her bra, she unclipped it and let it fall off her chest.
“Oh he’d believe it; he just would never believe it could happen to you”
She placed both hands gently on Norville ‘Shaggy’ Rogers’ face and pressed her lips gently against them, giving him a sensational emotional surge which made his body bright red with radiance, and hers too. It was ecstasy.
After letting a minute back to take back the breath she had taken, Shaggy asked Daphne a question.
“So what did you say back to him Daph?”
“I talked to him about the weather”
Shaggy nodded, smirking smugly. Taking note of the ruckus outside, the terrible rumblings in the kingdom of clouds above the motel.
“You told him to find his reply in the thunder” he softly uttered.
Sheet lightning that illuminated the room, startling Daphne to the point she threw herself into Shaggy’s arms. She knew there would be little rest for her tonight, even held within this moment of divine warmth, divine bliss.
Daphne’s phone rang, Scooby, now awake, plucked it out of her jacket pocket and handed it to her. She slowly let her skirt slip loose as she rose to her feet and answered.
“It’s Fred” she said, quietly.
Shaggy leaned over to the edge of the bed, his hand placed tenderly on Daphne’s shoulders.
Daphne told Fred she’d probably be sleeping in over the morning, which would give him as much time as needed to finish editing for the 5:15 PM bulletin without being necessarily called away to another assignment. Shaggy could tell from her other responses that Fred was doing most of the talking for the remainder of the conversation.
“Thanks Fred, I understand, I love you too” she said, and put the phone down, her naked body leaning back over Shaggy’s lap and staring into his eyes as her hands again playfully brushed against his face.
“What’d he say?”
“You were right, the weather conditions outside got his adrenaline pumping, he said he found his reply in the thunder. He has to do what scares him, it’s important. It’s necessary, even though he may fail at it. Too many people at the network are telling him it won’t work out; we don’t want you to fail. If he does this he’ll get himself hurt, they’re trying to protect him, but they’re really only protecting themselves, trying to preserve the team…but if you follow your dreams, and you achieve them, then they have to say to themselves ‘what didn’t I do?, and why didn’t I do it?'”
“And that’s a harder thing for them to accept” Shaggy added.
“So what do we do now? My cameraman, my editor, my friend, is leaving to pursue a career in the supernatural, I reckon there’s a vacancy, want to fill it?”
“A few autumns ago, Googie called me, she wanted me to look after the kids and take them on a nature trail in the park. She gave me a pair of glasses, she figured I needed them to see what was ahead of me, thought I could see long distance better with them. Just another thing she insisted to better on my person, story of our divorce, but I wasn’t going to argue with her ‘least I never see the kids again, so we head out on the walk. And half way through the park, Scooby steps on a yellow jacket’s nest that was hidden amongst the dry October leaves. The kids took a few hits, and then they all swarmed over me.
I rocked my head back and forth a few times, Scooby leapt into my arms, then the kids all piled on top of him, and we headed right back home. After we gave the kids and Scoob a bath and put them to bed, Googie asks me where the glasses went. In shaking my head, I lost them, and they were back there, in the forest. Pitch black, conditions were right for creepers and crawlers.
I wanted to show her right then and there that I could see what was ahead of me, the danger, dragons in the dark; I had to show her those dragons could be slain. Turning away from that danger to save our own skin wasn’t what was brave. Turning back and proving your point was braver. She never insisted I change things about myself again”
Daphne gave him an aroused, suggestive smirk, pulling his face closer to hers as he cradled her.
“That was one solid audition pitch Shag, tell that story to the network execs tomorrow once they get my recommendation and you’ll have Fred’s job in next to no time”
“Wow, hear that Scoob? We’re gonna be, like, making monster movie magic” Shaggy remarked to Scooby, who had settled back into a peaceful slumber on the floor, having halfway chewed on Daphne’s phone.
“Just promise me you won’t sleepwalk, you snore” Daphne softly whispered, as she drew Shaggy’s lips to her for another enticing kiss.
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