Snow 'Brie' White and the Seven Clones
By Erin Gieg <giegabyte@connect.ab.ca>
October 19, 1999

  Once upon a battlestar, there lived a warrior named Brie.  Having just
recently had a crisis of 
personality, Brie had changed her name and hair.  While on a mission on a
planet, she was 
captured by a family of evil Cylons.  
  "What is this one's designation," one Cylon asked.
  "The name's Snow White, thank you very much," Brie said, and she kicked
him in the shin.
  "Ouch," she squealed and began to hop on her undamaged foot.
  "That is illogical," another Cylon put in.
  "Wait a mil," Brie said, "What's with the logic stuff?  You aren't
Vulcans,are you?"
  She forgot her pain for the moment and peered around the side of one
Cylon's head, looking 
for any trace of pointy ears.
  "Vulcanized?" the nearest Cylon intoned.  "We have no rubber parts."
  "Right," Brie muttered under her breath.  "Of course they've not seen
the old IFB broadcasts."
  "Your black hair is very unnatural."
  "Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence," Brie said.  
  She reached up and pulled off the wig that she was wearing.
  "I was trying a new look, ok?" she rolled her eyes and fluffed her hair
with her free hand.
  (Anyway, getting back to the main story...this is going off track <G>)
  The Cylon legions brought Brie to Baltar, who was of course in his
chair..., ooh sorry, throne.  
He was, as usual, looking in his little porta-mirror, which he had
recently acquired.  The mirror 
would flatter him all day long, and since that thing had been brought
aboard, there was no living 
with him.
  He blithely ignored Brie and her captors, and instead looked at the
mirror once more.
  "Oh, porta-mirror, who is the fairest one of all?"
  "Oh, you're very handsome, sir," the mirror said, "But that lady over
there is the fairest one, I'd 
have to say.  She's very photogenic."
  Baltar went into a rage and knocked the mirror on the armrest a couple
of times, somehow 
managing not to break it.  
  "What do you mean, she's the fairest one of all?!"
  "What, don't you have ears?" the mirror said testily.
  "I can hear you just fine.  You can't even see her!"
  "I have sensors in the back of my head.  So sue me."
  With that, Baltar threw his head back and bellowed, "Get me a lawyer!"
  Then he realized what he was saying.
  Finally, he turned his attention to Brie.
  "So you're the colonial spy who's been running around this planet," he
said.
  "Yeah, so, like, what's your problem?" Brie said.
  "I cannot have a spy in my midst!" Baltar roared.
  "Oh."
  "Take her away and off with her head!" 
  "Now wait just a mic," Brie said, flustered.
  "No, I will not hear anything more from you!" Baltar said.
  "By your command," the Cylons droned in unison.
  They marched Brie out into the woods, fully intending to do away with
her.  When they had 
left her up against a tree, and turned around to do their ten pace walk
before they could aim and 
fire, Brie slipped around the tree and ran off further into the forest.
  "Ha," she said to herself, "Those Cylons are so dumb."
  She chuckled to herself every once in a while, until her exertion made
it impossible to do 
anything but pull in great gasps of air.  Finally, she decided she was
far enough away from the 
Cylons to relax a bit, and collapsed against yet another tree in the
forest.
  "Oh look at that," she said as she regained her breath and rounded the
tree.
  A quaint little cabin was situated in the middle of the clearing.  (My,
but there are an awful lot 
of clearings with houses in fairytales.)
  Well, Brie, of course, had to investigate.  In the door she went and
after exploring for a bit, 
determined that there were seven people living in this particular house. 
(Seven beds, seven 
place settings - you get the picture.)
    Brie nibbled on something from each of the plates, then tried out all
the beds until she finally 
fell asleep on the seventh.
  When it was dark, the seven occupants of the cabin came trudging home,
tired from a long day 
at the office.  They all noticed at once the missing food on their plates
(now there's a great 
opportunity to catch food poisoning - leaving food out all day!) and then
one by one, the 
rumpled beds.  Finally, they all gathered round the last bed, where of
course, Brie was.  One 
tickled her foot, and she sat up, still half-asleep, her eyes opened to
slits.
  "Apollo?" she mumbled.
  "Yes?" Seven voices chorused, and seven sets of eyes stared at her.
  "How did you know our name?" one asked.
  Brie snapped wide awake then.
  "You're...you're..."
  "Clones?"
  "Uh, yeah. Ok.  Sure.  That's totally believable."
  And then our tough female warrior keeled over in a dead faint.
  When Brie finally awoke again, she was less astonished at the
appearance of the seven 
Apollos, and asked how she could figure out which one was which.
  "Oh, that's easy," one of the clones said.
  "Yes, you can just call us by the colors we wear," another clone said.
  "Color coded, how handy," Brie said.  Then she muttered under her
breath, "He was always 
good with colors."
  It was decided that Brie should live with them, and so the clones took
to building an addition 
to the cabin especially for her.  (Good thing it was a weekend...or
whatever you call it...)
  One cycle, Baltar pulled out his favorite mirror again (when he wasn't
trying to break 
it...mustn't have been very superstitious <G>).
  "Well, mirror," he said, "Who is the fairest one of all?"
  "Well," the mirror paused.  "You're very handsome, but I still think
that Brie is the fairest."
  "What do you mean by that?" Baltar said, working himself into a rage. 
"What do you mean 
that cheese is fairer than I?"
  "Not cheese, you dolt!  That lady warrior you had in here a while
back."
  "Oho!" Baltar cried.  "But she's dead!  I ordered her head off myself!"
  "Yes, and what Baltar wants, Baltar gets, right?" the mirror had a nice
sarcastic tone to its 
voice.
  Baltar's eyes grew wide.
  "Centurion!" he roared.
  "By your command," the Cylon by the door said.
  "How is this," he glanced at the mirror, "That Brie is still alive?"
  "She eluded us," the Cylon said.
  "And you didn't think to inform me of this?"
  "The question was not asked."
  "Fine!" Baltar said, then grumbled to himself.  "You want something
done properly, I guess 
you've got to do it yourself.  Speaking of doing things properly, perhaps
I should write these 
stories - at least then I could win more often!"
  (Aside: forget it, Baltar.)
  So Baltar disguised himself as a nasty old hag (quite a stretch), and
headed off to the cabin 
where Brie and the seven clones resided.  Along the way, he picked up a
basket of apples and 
a vial of death-simulation drug. (Either he was a fan of Shakespeare, or
just plain dumb.)  
Injecting the entire vial into one apple (nothing like a good dose of
overkill), he cackled 
fiendishly.  After that, he shuffled the rest of the way to the cabin.
  "Yes?" Brie answered the knock at the door.
  "Hello, my sweet.  Would you like to buy an malumi?" Baltar wheedled.
  "What is a malumi?"
  Baltar rolled his eyes.  "It's an apple, ok?"
  "Ohhhh," Brie said.  "Well, I'd love to, but I don't have any cubits."
  'I didn't plan for this', Baltar thought to himself.  'Quick, I must
think of something!'
  "Well, I could let you have one as a sample, and perhaps when I come
back next you will have 
enjoyed it so much that you will be able to buy some next time!"  Baltar
said.

  "That's a very good idea," poor unsuspecting Brie said.
  Baltar handed her the apple which he had dosed and turned away, all the
while chuckling to 
himself.
  "What is so funny?" Brie said.
  "Oh drat, I forgot to wait until I was out of earshot!" Baltar said
under his breath.  Then he 
turned around.
  "It's an insanely funny joke that I had remembered."
  "Please tell it to me."  Brie said, vaguely suspicious.
  "I forget the beginning," Baltar fibbed.
  "Oh," Brie said.  "Well, thank you for the apple!"
  Baltar continued on his way, mentally berating himself.
  Brie closed the door and immediately took a bite of the apple, as it
looked very delicious.  Just 
then, the seven clones arrived home from work.
  Brie waved her hand in front of her eyes.
  "Apollo, there are twenty one of you!"
  "What?" the clones chorused.
  Brie fell to the floor as if dead.
  "See what happens when you bring friends home from work?" Yellow Apollo
poked a finger 
into another one's chest.
  "Sorry," Purple Apollo shrugged.  "I thought it would be fun."
  The original seven clones gathered around Brie and attempted to wake
her, but to no avail.  
Terribly upset, they called in a doctor.  The doctor took one look at
her, checked her pulse, 
and said, "She's dead, Jim."
  "What?" a clone asked.
  "Oh, sorry, your name's not Jim, is it?  I never remember what show I'm
in."
  The heartbroken Apollos built a nice glass casket for Brie to rest in,
and they put it in the 
middle of the room, so that they would never forget her.  (Oh, I'm sure
sometimes that they 
used it as a coffee table...this is after all, a fairy tale, and anything
can happen.)
  Anyway, one day a handsome prince came riding up on his shiny new ATV
and promptly ran 
into the corner of the house.
  "Aw! I just got the paint job fixed," the prince said.
  The clones, who had come out to see what the commotion was about, just
stared at him.  
Finally, one said, "Oh yeah, well we just finished painting the house!"
  "I'm terribly sorry.  I'll pay for it," the prince said.  "Is there a
dead lady warrior around here?"
  "Who wants to know?" Red Apollo said, a skeptical expression on his
face.
  "I am Prince Bojay, and I have come to see if I might wake her."
  "Well, first of all, do you know the meaning of dead?" Blue Apollo
asked.
  "Of course I do," Bojay said.
  "All right then," Red Apollo said.  "This way."
  Prince Bojay followed, and seeing the glass casket, opened the lid,
stooped down, and kissed 
Brie.
  Suddenly, her eyelashes fluttered, and her eyes opened.  Seeing Bojay
just an inch from her 
face, she screamed and pushed him out of the way.  The clones were
overjoyed (that she was 
awake, of course), and wondered why they hadn't thought of kissing her to
wake her up.
  After a few days, when Bojay had regained his hearing and recovered
from his bruises (he hit 
a few things when he fell on the floor), the pair was sealed, and they
lived happily ever after.

                                THE END

Erin Gieg
My Webpage: http://www.connect.ab.ca/~giegabyte/index.html
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