"Truth Or Dare"
by Andra Marie Mueller
AUTHOR’S NOTE: This little bitty was the result of a Voyager 1001 challenge to write a “Country Fried Fanfic” using the words/topics of: prison, Mama, train, truck, cold rain and getting drunk. Extra credit for a dog, double extra credit for hound dog. So blame them for this piece of drivel, and don’t bother to alert Paramount. These characters don’t resemble theirs anyway.
Disclaimer: Paramount is the legal owner of the characters of 'Star Trek: Voyager'. I just borrow them for my own nefarious purposes and to give them real lives
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“This is ridiculous. I don’t know how I got maneuvered into participating in this game in the first place.”
“Because we’re drunk, and it will help us overlook the fact that we are sitting outside in the cold rain because your mother kicked us out of the house.”
“After our little...exercise…in the kitchen, do you blame her?”
Chakotay sighed. “Stop trying to rationalize, Kathryn and just play the game.”
Kathryn sighed. “Fine. I choose truth.”
“Okay. Has any member of your family ever been in prison?”
“Yes.”
“Yes?”
“That’s what I said.”
“Who was it?”
“My great great great grandfather, William Robert Janeway. He was arrested after he drove his truck into a train and killed his wife, Becky, and their hound dog, Oscar.”
“Oscar?”
Kathryn shot him a sideways glance. “Has your alcohol intake affected your hearing or are you repeating everything I say just to annoy me?”
“Sorry,” Chakotay muttered. “So…why did your great great great grandfather Billy Bob drive his truck into the train?”
“Beats me. He was crazier than a loon, so no one knew why he did anything.”
Chakotay reflected on the story for a moment before responding. “You made that up, didn’t you?”
“Only the part about the truck and the train.”
“That’s cheating.”
“Maybe, but you have to admit it was an interesting little bitty.”
“Did you even have a great great great grandfather named William Robert?”
“Yes, and he did have a wife name Becky. But they lived to well over one hundred years old and were as sharp as tacks until the day they died.”
“What about Oscar the hound dog?”
“Oscar was their oldest son. I have no idea what they named their dog.”
Chakotay shook his head. “I can’t believe you made up such a terrible story.”
Kathryn shrugged. “What can I say? Alcohol has a liberating effect on my code of ethics.”
“Really…well in that case, maybe we should find a more ‘liberating’ way to keep ourselves warm until Gretchen let’s us back inside.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“Why don’t I show you?”
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The End.
(Thankfully)