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Title: 'Hell Money'
Author:
but_can_i_be_trusted
Fandom: Friends
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Notes: Crossposted to
genprompt_bingo
Summary: Shutting his laptop, Chandler sighed.
"And send," Chandler said, clicking.
Suddenly, a psychedelic, multicolored cloud poofed into being immediately behind him. From it emerged a blonde woman with horns. She sat cross-legged on the cloud, as though it were a very fluffy ottoman.
"Do you really want to send that email," she asked Chandler. "Your boss might kick your ass."
"Well, you could've said something before I clicked," he shot back. "Better yet--you could've said something before I started writing the email!"
"That's not my job," she smugly replied. She glanced toward Central Perk's counter. "Ooh! Butterscotch chip scones!"
With that, the strange figure drifted over to the counter, rapidly engaging a startled Gunther in a haggling match.
Rachel pointed, staring at her. "Uh, Chandler...who's she," she nervously wondered.
Shutting his laptop, Chandler sighed. "That's Phoebe, my laptop demon."
"Your laptop demon?!"
"Yeah." Chandler slid his laptop into its carrying case, zipping the case firmly closed. "I thought I was downloading a crucial file, but I got Phoebe, instead."
"So, what is she," Rachel asked as Phoebe returned. "Some sort of computer virus?"
"I resent that," Phoebe declared. "I am not a virus. Chandler, you owe that white-haired guy some Earth money," she added around a mouthful of scone. "These humans just don't accept Hell money as currency."
Author:
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Fandom: Friends
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Notes: Crossposted to
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
Summary: Shutting his laptop, Chandler sighed.
"And send," Chandler said, clicking.
Suddenly, a psychedelic, multicolored cloud poofed into being immediately behind him. From it emerged a blonde woman with horns. She sat cross-legged on the cloud, as though it were a very fluffy ottoman.
"Do you really want to send that email," she asked Chandler. "Your boss might kick your ass."
"Well, you could've said something before I clicked," he shot back. "Better yet--you could've said something before I started writing the email!"
"That's not my job," she smugly replied. She glanced toward Central Perk's counter. "Ooh! Butterscotch chip scones!"
With that, the strange figure drifted over to the counter, rapidly engaging a startled Gunther in a haggling match.
Rachel pointed, staring at her. "Uh, Chandler...who's she," she nervously wondered.
Shutting his laptop, Chandler sighed. "That's Phoebe, my laptop demon."
"Your laptop demon?!"
"Yeah." Chandler slid his laptop into its carrying case, zipping the case firmly closed. "I thought I was downloading a crucial file, but I got Phoebe, instead."
"So, what is she," Rachel asked as Phoebe returned. "Some sort of computer virus?"
"I resent that," Phoebe declared. "I am not a virus. Chandler, you owe that white-haired guy some Earth money," she added around a mouthful of scone. "These humans just don't accept Hell money as currency."