This was originally started for the www.ScreedWasHere.com  Fanfic Challenge,
                   but after the first part I found myself flat on the floor as my Personae
                   trampled over me to get in.  Therefore, it does not qualify for that
                   Challenge.  Oh, well.  Undone by mine own selves.

                   Comments to [email protected].

                   I do not own the Forever Knight characters, just this stupid plot and the
                   various fanatic Personaes that dwell in my brain.  For those I must plead
                   guilty.

                   Warning One!  This fic is NOT Natalie Friendly.  If you are a rabid
                   Natpacker or N&Ner, turn away and save me the grief. <eg>  Primary FK
                   characters are Nick, LaCroix, and Screed.  And..uh...Nat.

                   Warning Two!  Once again I have bypassed using a beta reader.

                   [Scene:  Inside a really groddy looking sewer apartment.  Two shadowed forms
                   talk in the foreground.]

                   "Screed!"
                   "Oiy, yoir hoityness?"
                   "Screed, do you know what is this?!"
                   "Wha... thoit?  E' jes Ol' Screedy's ne-fangoiled geezer-mo wot 'at he been
                   findin' hidey-holin' inta Loirds & Leeches Fleein-ta-Market waryhome's
                   baserment."
                   "Screed---you illiterate--lovely---mishappened creature!  Do you know what
                   you've found!!  I could kiss you!"
                   "Eh?!"
                   "Figuratively speaking, of course."
                   "Oiy--es me figgyore Screedy's wormyin' aboot!  Figgyorin' 'at tha Vachonie
                   weel ta tinkin' es matey-mate es gawn queerish!  Ya nowleadging 'at eye's
                   oinly setin me toothin tips fer the ratsies de-loights a' noi yer own uppity
                   tights, Mr. Defective."
                   "Uhh.. yeah."
                   "Sew....toikin' a loikey-like t' 'at, y'ave?"
                   "How much?"
                   "Weeel... eye da no.  Koiynta takin' ta fancyinning ta e meself eye 'ave.'
                   "How.  Much."
                   "Cudta b'mekin a roight foin hairyloom un cinchury combin, it cud.  Loik on
                   'at Antsytick Rude Show"
                   "HOW.  MUCH."
                   "Naw, na needlin' ta be toonin' on ta Rooby Redloights, guv...er..
                   Defective!  Coopermentaleries o' de Screedy, 'at is."
                   "Oh.  Well, that's very kind of you."
                   "'Cursin, moiybe ta Defective woild ba loikin t'stay wid Screedy fer the
                   Cock-a-doodlin' ours fer sem chaw-chawin' woid be noice reCop Pensioning?
                   Eye evain gaw un o' dem fancy-prancin pig ratsies from Gooinness.  Pig'z
                   jooces loik cow Screed's highpoferiorizing?"
                   "Er...how about $500 instead."
                   "Dill and dun.  A' a noice toime doin' ta busynessn' wid ya, Moysture de
                   Babblebow.
                   "That's Brabant."
                   "Woit eye soid."
 

                   [Scene:  Nick's Loft.  Kyer walks in as Nicholas is busy putting a strange
                   machine together.]

                   "Hi, Nick."
                   "Hello, Kyer."
                   "What's that your setting up?" the Knightie inquired, eyeing the machine
                   warily.  "An old-fashioned ice cream maker?  What in the world are you doing
                   with one of those?  Trying to expand on Nat's protein drink repretoire?  I
                   know you prefer dairy products, but..."
                   Nick muttered something under his breathe before responding, "Please.  I
                   even have to feed the garbage disposal antacid pills to keep it from
                   throwing that stuff of hers back up.  My plumber has me on his speed dial
                   just like my skylight glass provider.  He's naming his firstborn after me
                   seeing as I'm donating more to the kid's college fund than he is."
                   "Ah.  So... what's with the frozen diary dispenser?"  She pointed at the
                   wooden-sided container.
                   "This, my wacky little Squirette?" Nicholas' eyes gleamed with triumph.
                   "This little gadget only looks like a ice cream maker.  In actuality, it's
                   my way back to my mortality."
                   The human blinked at him.  Then gave a sickly grin.  "Your kidding, Milord.
                   Say your kidding?"
                   "Nope." Her chosen vampire lovingly caressed the machine as if it was teal
                   and sported fins.  "You are looking at an ancient Phoenician Pharmaceutical
                   Fraptualizor."
                   ((Oh, no.  Not another hare-brai--))
                   "What was that?"
                   "Um...nothing, nothing."  Kyer hastily put her 'loyal Knightie smile' back
                   on again.  "What's 'frap'?" she asked, honestly curious.
                   Nick lost some of his confident air.  "An ancient Phoenician medical term
                   for...er...something or other.  I..uh...kinda lost my ancient Phoenican to
                   Outdated Medieval French Dictionary in my last move.  But I know it'll cure
                   me.  It's listed in the 'What's What for Ancient Curses and Fetishes'
                   handbook that I bought off this weird FBI agent at an Angster's Anon
                   Convention."
                   Deciding to let that reference pass, Kyer tapped the PPF.  "Ah.  So how does
                   it work?  Supposedly?"
                   "Simple," Nick beamed, all boyish enthusiasm again.  "I feed it my blood,
                   salt, this magical herb mixture I got from Phoenician Phil's  Magical
                   Potions & Lotions store, and a bottle of white wine, churn it for an hour
                   and then suck it back up through this Crazy Straw<tm> attachment."
                   "Come again?"
                   "The vampire will get so dizzy drunk and nauseated by the wine (being used
                   to red), that it will willingly leave my system when faced with the magic
                   herbs.  Then the salt will restore my blood to its human frap consistancy.
                   I'll be free!"
                   ((Hoo, boy.))
                   "What was that?"
                   "Nothing."
 

                   [Scene:  The Dark Underside of Nick's Warehouse.  Kyer is searching for
                   someone.]

                   "Light!"
                   "Down here in the Pit Of Condemned Bovines, Kyer."

                   [author:  What?  You don't think that Nick is a creature of habit?]

                   "Mooo!  Moo!   Mooo!"
                   "Outta the way, Bessie, Bertie, and Hortense!" Kyer commanded, shoving
                   Condemned Bovines out of the way as she headed for the gentler/kinder half
                   of her first Personality splinter.  "This is an emergency!"
                   "I'll say... "  Light Squirette looked woefully down at the gravelly floor,
                   "do you realize that we are getting low on Cow Litter?"
                   "Moo." opined the Condemned Bovines.
                   "Never mi---geeze, it *is* starting to smell down here a bit, isn't it?  Oh,
                   forget that now!  Our Milord is in dire danger!"
                   "Not the General again?" Light sighed.  A visit from Nick's sire always
                   meant more glass breakage to clean up after.
                   "Worse!"
                   "Already?" the Twilight Knightie half whined.  "But it hasn't been a week
                   since Nat's last shipment."  With a pained look, she started for the stairs.
                   "I'll go bet the stomach pump.."
                   Kyer stopped her.  "Not that!  Nicholas has found another..*cure*.
                   "Really?"  Light looked hopeful.  She loved those few scenes with Nick in
                   the sun.  Um...Nick in the sun and not smoking, I mean.
                   "Light!  It's not a *legit* cure."
                   "Oh..."  Light went pale...er. " Oh!  Eeeek---what'll we do!" she shrieked,
                   remembering past incidents.  "He'll kill himself!  Why does he do this?!
                   Geepers---if I.B. hadn't sabotaged the wiring on his Al's Aztec Tanning Bed
                   that time... or if CotK hadn't managed to melt the Eyptian Rubber Ducky of
                   Doom--"
                   [mutual shudder at the mention of the Rubber Ducky]
                   "C'mon!" Kyer grabbed Light by the arm.  "We gotta find Dark and the
                   others!"
 

                   [Scene:  Nick's spare bedroom.  A plethora of Kyer's FK Personalities huddle
                   over a table and an old book that Le Mizzy is scanning through.  Dark is off
                   to the side, smirking to herself.]

                   "A Phoenician Pharmaceutical Fraptualizor, huh?  Did it look like an ice
                   cream maker?"
                   "Yes.  With real oak siding.  Is that bad, Le Mizzy?"
                   "Awful." The Urs/Nick Personality frowned as she read further.  "According
                   to ancient literature, it was one of those things that sunk Atlantis.
                   Reputedly makes the worst batch of rasperberry sherbert, too.  In terms of
                   hazardness to our belovedly-befanged blond brick, this situation pales next
                   to the 'Holy Cow' scenario."
                   [collective gasps]
                   "We gotta save Nick!" the Personae wailed.
                   "Yes!"  CotK shouted.  "We can't let him become mortal!  A fangless Nicholas
                   would get creamed by LC fer sure!"
                   "But how will we stop him, CotK?"  I.B. wanted to know.
                   "Only one way."   We have to destroy that device before our Knight gets
                   himself iced!"
 

                   [Scene:  Nick's living room.  Nick is doggedly cranking away on the IC
                   machine.  Bags of ingrediants are strewn nearby.]

                   "Hey, Milord!  I could use some help over here!" Light Squirette's voice
                   drifted up from the lower level.
                   "Light?" Nick frowned.  He was so close!  But there was a lady---or
                   something---in distress, and he was a knight, so...  "Hold on... Be there in
                   a sec!  ((Just let me mix in the salt..))"
                   "Hurry, Nick!  The Cow Litter bag busted and it's getting all over your wet
                   paint brushes!  Ooops!  Er...I hope you like the idea of exploring the
                   possibilities of mixed media artwork."
                   "What?!  Coming!"

                   [Dark Squirette and Kyer sneak in as Nicholas leaves.]

                   "Bwahaahaa!  He's gone."
                   "Yeah, but not for long.  Better hurry, Dark."
                   "Patience, oh Fearless Manager, patience.  These are like working on a
                   ticking time bomb."
                   "You've done this before?" Kyer asked, impressed.  And began to wonder just
                   what Dark did on her off time.
                   "No.  But I once bought a remanufactured ice cream maker.  And let me tell
                   you, Merry Cherry food coloring stains on Nick's attire are not to be
                   trifled with .  Darn thing morphed into an Evil Pink Shirt right before my
                   eyes.  I had to stake it quick with a wooden spatula before it attacked me."

                   [Both Pseudo-Knighties jump when the skylight glass comes crashing down
                   behind them.  A black, buzz-cutted vampire floats lazily to the floor,
                   Lucien LaCroix, vampire father to Nicholas.]

                   "And what is going on here?" LaCroix scowled, plainly not happy to see them
                   in his son's home.

                   "Oh, lookey.  It's the General Nuisance," Dark grumbled.
                   Kyer put a restraining hand on the Dark one's arrm.  They had enough
                   troubles to deal with as it was without DS inciting the ancient to attack
                   them.
                   "Kyer.  Dark." the old Roman sneered.  "I suppose the rest of your Lunatic
                   Legion are visiting the Loft as well?"
                   "Well, unlike *some* people, we actually had an invite.  Why are you here?"
                   Kyer cautiously asked him.
                   "Nicholas has been sending strange thoughts down our link of late.
                   Something to do with multi-flavorings.  Thirty or thereabouts, I believe.
                   You wouldn't---gods!" Eyes wide, LaCroix stared in horror at the object on
                   the table.  "Is that an actual Phoenician Pharmaceutical Fraptualizor!?"
                   Kyer blinked.  "You know of them?"
                   "I should!  It was Divia's playing around with one of those demonic devices
                   that... well, lets just say that this hair style was not my original
                   choice."
                   "Don't," Kyer whispered the warning to Dark before the other could let loose
                   with a giggle.  By Golly, she still had lots of fanfic to read yet before
                   her eventual demise, and she wanted to be alive long enough to get to it!
                   LaCroix meanwhile was growling and pointing his beringed finger at the PPF.
                   "What is it doing in my son's home?"
                   "He bought it off of Screed," Dark informed him.
                   The ancient made a face, and mentally reminded himself to talk to his son
                   about the company he kept.  "Apparently the carouche neglected to warn him
                   of its insidious side effects."
                   "Well," Kyer reminded him,  "Screed is not exactly all there.  And with that
                   speech impediment.."
                   "Exactly.  Insidious side effects."
                   "You mean?!" both fractioned Knighties went pale.
                   "Exactly.  Monsieur Screed was once my rival in the oratorical department."
                   Kyer was aghast.  This was far worse than the book had hinted.  "What kind
                   of deviant psycho mind would create such machine!"
                   "I believe it was the great-ancestor of that Microsoft<tm> fellow," LaCroix
                   mused.  "Those were barbaric times."
                   "Figures." Kyer sighed.  "So how do we destroy it."
                   "Foolish Personalities!  You cannot hope to destroy such a monstrosity
                   without the aid of something equally vile or cataclysmically powerful.  I
                   had to have Divia's thrown into Mt. Vesuvius!"--pained look--"And look what
                   came of that.  I lost a perfectly good villa."
                   "And a whole city of people," Dark piped up.
                   "Yes...the pickings *were* rather slim for my first meal." the vampire
                   agreed.
                   "Not to mention your lost mortality," Kyer reminded him.
                   "Well, they say everything has a silver lining."

                   [Nicholas and a harried-looking Light Squirette enter the room]

                   "Forget it, Light!  I am not going to tour your dusting of the Condemned
                   Bovines.  As for the Acme Field Fresh Scent Cow Litter, I'll just ask Nat to
                   pick up some more at the Bargain Barn.  Right now, I've got more
                   important--" Nick let out a suprised grunt as he bumped into his maker.
                   "LaCroix!  What are you doing here?"
                   "Saving you from your foolishness, Nicholas, before you get yourself
                   frapped."
                   "So...you know of my plans and are going to try to stop me?  You just want
                   to keep me a vampire!  Well this time I will not be denied!  [The ice cream
                   maker starts to turn bright red and shake.  Nick grabs hold of the Crazy
                   Straw<tm>, lips set to suck.] Well, your too late!  See?  The Frapulator is
                   starting to glow with  power!  Mortality is mine!"

                   [All but Nick go several shades paler.  The rest of the FK Personalities run
                   into the room only to take one look at the glowing machine and scream as
                   one.]

                   "Noooooooooooo!"

                   [Just then the lift door opens and Dr. Natalie Lambert, coroner and
                   Nick's-girlfriend-wannabe steps out carrying a large shopping bag.]

                   "Hi, Nick!  I know  its early, but I thought that you could use an extra
                   protein sha--Hey!"

                   [Kyer grabs the tumbler out of Nat's possession and throws it to Dark's
                   waiting hands.]

                   "Dark!  The protein drink---Equally Vile!"

                   [Dark nods her understanding.  She dumps the putrid contents into the
                   vibrating Frapulator.  It belches, then explodes in a psycodelic display.
                   The entire contents fall upon the hapless Natalie like a scene out of
                   Ghostbusters.]

                   "Aaaagh!  I've been frapped!" Natalie wailed.
                   A mortified Nicholas ran over to help.  "Nat!  Are you okay?!"  For his
                   trouble he got a handful of 'frap' flung at him.
                   "Do I *look* like I'm okay, Nick?  How the heck did you get ahold of my
                   machine anyway?"
                   "*Your* machine?  Natalie---when...how did you get a Phoenician
                   Pharmaceutical Fraptualizor?"
                   "Phoeni..?  Nick---that's the old-fashioned ice cream maker I threw out in
                   the last general pickup.  Look---it even has my name engraved on the
                   bottom."  She lifted the bucket's bottom so that he could see the engraved
                   brass plate:  Property of Natalie Lambert.
                   "Oh.  Oops."
                   Nat gave the ice cream maker a disgusted glare.  "This stupid thing hasn't
                   worked right in years."

                   [Kyer and Co. decide to beat a hasty retreat.  LaCroix, the great tactician,
                   knows when to do the same.  Nick, unfortunately, is a little slower on the
                   uptake.]

                   "Phoenician Pharmaceutical Fraptualizor, Nick?"
                   "Uh...well...  It did frap you."
                   "Oh...that it did."
                   "Are you mad, Nat?"
                   "Noooo..."
                   "Oh.  Really?"

                   [Natalie hands him the ice cream bucket, which still has some of the goop
                   within it.]

                   "Nope.  Since I am going to watch you *eat* this frap."
                   "I am?"
                   "Uh huh.  Due to I am sooo looking forward to making you mortal."
                   "Nat...  Nat, are your eyes glowing?"  He could swear they were glowing.
                   "Because, Nick,  when you're mortal I can do this--"  She thwapped him on
                   the chest with a gooey hand.
                   "Nat!"
                   "And this--!"
                   [Narrowly avoiding the hand coming at his cheek, Nick flees into the night
                   following the trail of his father as Natalie screams at his departing form.]
                   "--whenever you do something stupid---and maybe it will stick in that thick
                   head of yours!"

                   [Watching from the second floor, Kyer and the Personalities Minus Two grin
                   the smile of serendipity, deciding that not only is Nicholas safe for the
                   time being, but his' days of yearning for mortality are seriously numbered.
                   Light is pouting, but not overmuch.  Meanwhile, across the street, CotK
                   stands by Dark as the latter speaks into her cell phone.]

                   "Thanks, Screed.  Hehehehe!  Yeah, it worked better than an Abbarat spell.
                   But I suggest you use those Las Vegas tickets I sent you, pronto.  His
                   Ancient Arse is a bit...yeah.  Bye."  She turned off the phone, grinning at
                   her compatriot.

                   "So, Nick's going to spend some time with daddy, Screed's happy---as long as
                   he escapes in time anyways, and Nat's out a video night with Milord..."
                   CotK mused aloud.  She grinned evilly.  "Not a bad way to spend the
                   evening."
                   They high-fived.
                   ======================
                   The End
                   (yes, I *do* have a thing for exploding food. <eg>)