Prodding a Writer
by Ili


"But Iiiiiiiiizzzzzzzzy!" Ili whined.

"I'm sorry Ili," Izzy replied, "I just haven't been able to write lately."

"But I want my birthday fic!" Ili gave Izzy a stubborn look.

"You're just going to have to wait till I can write again."

Ili sighed at Izzy's determination and wandered off for a while to plot.....

~*~

A bit of time passes...

~*~

"Ohhhh Iiiiizzy...." Ili said, looking around for the errant WAASer.

"Ili, I'm _not_ writing the fic right now and y-.......oh my TAWG...."

The last part of what Izzy said was because following Ili was a bevy of Wedge!Clones. All manner of Wedge!Clones. A few naked, a few simply covered in choice condiments, one all in leather, one in ripped jeans and a t-shirt, another in boxers, and the requisite Wedge!Clone at the front, in an orange flightsuit. Ili grinned, smug. "Me and the Wedge!Clones here are going to ... uhm... inspire you.... Well, actually, the Clones are going to inspire you."

Ili watched the look on Izzy's face go from stunned to complete disbelief to a kind of dazed "oooooh" look.

"Oh, by the way, one of those Wedge!Clones is the real Wedge...you're going to have a kissing contest to see which one is the real one." She grinned as Izzy's eyes glazed over. "Have fun." Then she looked at the Clones, "Don't overload her on your wonderful TAWGiness."

With that she left them to do whatever.

~*~

Some hours later

~*~

Ili poked her head into the room to see Izzy sitting there with a very giddy look on her face and her eyes semi-glazed over. As well as all of the clones plus one real Wedge arrayed around her in various states of lounging and disrobement. She just grinned and shut the door again, not bothering to go in. Mebbe we'll get some sort of fic out of her now. Once she gets over the giddiness. Hell, even a Ho! Down would be good.

With that she linked arms with Hobbie and Tycho and wandered merrily away to do quite fascinating things.

However, in the shadows lurked........

something fuzzy!

something furry!

something despised!

...

The dustbunny!

You thought it would be the Bothan-who-shall-remain-nameless? Didn't you? Didn't you?!

Well...HA!

~The End, as the author is carried off to the place where the nice men in white coats live. ~

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