Chapter One

Why Dentures? Why, Oh Why Dentures?

It was dusty. The upholstery was ragged and the woodwork nearly obscured under a film of grease. Rosemary was already bouncing around staring at stuff excitedly and yammering at Dill. "Come on, Mary, we have to clean this up. It'll look great and we can make friends and play games and it'll be AWESOME!"

Dill rolled her eyes. "And how do you suggest we fix this up There is no cloth, or paint, or cleaner around here."

She was proven wrong as Rosemary pointed towards a pile of stuff leaning against the farthest wall- cloth, cleaner, paint- everything that Dill had said they didn't have. And all in Rosemary's favourite styles and colours. "H-how did that stuff get there?"

"No idea, let's not look a gift horse in the mouth, eh? Let's get cleaning!"

She grabbed a jug of cleaner and started running water into the sink in the bar. "You can wash the walls, and I'll do the woodwork an' stuff."

Dill shook her head a few times. "Uh, Rose?"


"You are not weirded out?"

Rosemary shrugged. "Not noticeably. Come on, start cleaning."

The bar proved to be made of an attractive dark wood, inlaid with patterns of dentures and dead Mary Sues. The tables matched it perfectly, but the couch upholstery varied wildly.

Rosemary was in her element, cleaning and polishing, cutting and sewing strangely cooperative fabric while Dill washed and painted the walls.

"Hey, Rosemary, any idea why dentures?"

"None at all. It's sort of cute, though."

"Heh, I guess it is."

They worked in silence for a time period that probably would have been an hour in the outside world as Rosemary finished a slipcover over a thoroughly vacuumed couch and then moved on to the next one. "I don't know why, but this couch really makes me want to burn it. It's so… flammable."

Any response Dill would have made was interrupted by a chuckle from the direction of the door. "I hate to interrupt, but I've been curious about this place for years. I'm happy to see someone doing something about it."

The speaker was a young man, handsome beyond belief. His burnished gold hair waved softly and flopped charmingly into his remarkably warm blue eyes. All in all, he was far too gorgeous to be true.

Dill tried to frame a response, but no sound came from her throat. She watched in jealousy as Rosemary smiled easily at him. "You're welcome to help. This is really for everyone.

The man nodded and came in. "I guess I should introduce myself- I'm Apollo, Agent Apollo of the Department of Mary Sues, Mythology Division."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Agent Rosemary and this is my partner Agent Dill- her real name's Mary but only I get to call her that. We're with the Bleeding Hearts."

Dill smiled nervously. "Funny you should be named Apollo, because there's a Greek god named Apollo, right?"

Apollo flashed her a stunning grin. "I actually am the god, or a different incarnation of him. My author dropped me out of her story and into here."

Dill blushed. She hated handsome men; they made her incredibly nervous. She envied her best friend's complete obliviousness to her hormones at the moment. Rosemary could boss Apollo around without any second thoughts, assigning him the job that both of them had been too scared to think about. "You can clean out the bar. It's probably really gross and icky," she grinned, "I think we'll let you do it."

He raised an eyebrow and chuckled dryly. "A true honour and privilege."

Rosemary wrinkled her nose at him. "Of course it is. Now get to work"

Apollo ran some fresh hot water and sat down in front of one of the many cupboard openings. The room quieted again.

It took about five minutes to get the door open. Apollo blinked. "That is a lot of bottles."

Rosemary peered over his shoulder. "Hey, they're all shiny clean, too. Awesome!"

"Hmm, maybe we should sample them."

"Nah, we'd never get anything done. Besides, I don't want to get drunk. Why don't you check the other cupboards and see if they're all like that?"

He nodded and they all went back to work.

By later (time being awfully hard to tell in HQ) They had uncovered the facts that a) the bar was thoroughly stocked with as much alcohol as any of them had ever seen before, b) re-upholstering was far easier than Rosemary had ever dreamed possible, and c) there was a carnivorous race of dentures in the fridge.

Rosemary had been the one to find that last out, and all three of the agents were standing on top of the bar waiting for the mass of gaudily-painted false teeth to get distracted or leave.

"Really good job, Rosie," muttered Dill for the third time. "I particularly liked it when you poked the big set of teeth. That was a stroke of genius."

"Oh hush. We're going to be fine. We just have to wait for them to go away."

Apollo's expression held a mixture of amusement and fear. "I think they're chanting death threats in Dentureish," he reported, "We could be here a while."

"Joy, I've always wanted to meet my end at the metaphorical hands of a bunch of dentures!"

"Mary, calm down. You. You're just annoying them some more."

Rosemary furrowed her brow and said seriously, "You know, if you listen hard enough, they sound like popcorn."

If this were a bad script-form fanfic, I'd put 'DA: ::sweat drop::' here. Good thing it's not.

Both Dill and Apollo blinked and nodded slowly. "Maybe if we throw something, we can distract them long enough to make a run for it?" Dill suggested.

Apollo struck a pose on the bartop. "But then we couldn't come back. I am not going to abandon all our hard work just because a race of sentient dentures is crying for our blood. Our hopes and dreams should not be destroyed! Today we fight!"

It was Rosemary's turn to blink slowly. "You're used to giving inspirational speeches, aren't you, Apollo?"

"Er, yes. Does it show?"

The two girls nodded vigorously.


"Any ideas how we should fight? Anybody got a flamethrower? Or a high-powered machine gun?"

They all searched their pockets. "Ooh, I have a book of matches. Think the teethies are flammable?"

"It's always possible, Rosie. Give it a shot."

Rosemary struck a match and dropped it into the middle of a battle formation below. The formation broke into seething chattering mass as all the dentures tried to get as far from the match as possible. "Looks like it works!"

"Hmm, a few more and they might retreat…" Apollo grabbed the matches and removed a few from the box, striking them on the bottom of his shoe and dropping them to the floor.

The orderly, menacing masses of dentures surrounding the bar surged and roiled as they tried to avoid the flaming menaces and get back into the fridge. Rosemary hopped down as the last one scuttled into the fridge and duct-taped it shut. "All those in favour of a new fridge say 'aye'!"

The vote was unanimous.