The Lancer Fanfiction Archive

subglobal1 link | subglobal1 link | subglobal1 link | subglobal1 link | subglobal1 link | subglobal1 link | subglobal1 link
subglobal2 link | subglobal2 link | subglobal2 link | subglobal2 link | subglobal2 link | subglobal2 link | subglobal2 link
subglobal3 link | subglobal3 link | subglobal3 link | subglobal3 link | subglobal3 link | subglobal3 link | subglobal3 link
subglobal4 link | subglobal4 link | subglobal4 link | subglobal4 link | subglobal4 link | subglobal4 link | subglobal4 link
subglobal5 link | subglobal5 link | subglobal5 link | subglobal5 link | subglobal5 link | subglobal5 link | subglobal5 link
subglobal6 link | subglobal6 link | subglobal6 link | subglobal6 link | subglobal6 link | subglobal6 link | subglobal6 link
subglobal7 link | subglobal7 link | subglobal7 link | subglobal7 link | subglobal7 link | subglobal7 link | subglobal7 link
subglobal8 link | subglobal8 link | subglobal8 link | subglobal8 link | subglobal8 link | subglobal8 link | subglobal8 link

PaulaR

 

 

Dollies And Llamas

Disclaimer:  The Lancers are not mine and I don’t care who owns them, I just like to play with them once in awhile.  I promise to take care of them and put them back on the shelf when I’m done (except maybe Johnny).

===============================

It was a fine Sunday afternoon, and after a long week of ranching duties, Scott welcomed the chance to relax with a new book in front of the fireplace.  There’d been no one in the great room when he settled into the leather chair, but the banging of the French door indicated that the peace and quiet he’d enjoyed for nearly an hour was coming to an abrupt end.

 “Hey, Big Brother, what you reading?”

“It’s about the Dalai Lama.”

“Why are you reading ‘bout a toy animal?”

“How do you get that I’m reading about a ‘toy animal’ from what I just said?”

“Well, a dolly is a little girl’s toy and you told me a llama is what people in a place called Peru use as a pack animal.  If you’re reading about the ‘dolly llama,’ you must be reading about a toy animal.”

 “Johnny, the Dalai Lama is a religious leader in a place called Tibet.  It’s spelled D-a-l-a-i L-a-m-a.”

“Then shouldn’t it be pronounced ‘day lay lama’?”

“Explain to me how you get that pronunciation.”

“Well, from the spelling rules you showed me in those old school books…something about having more than one vowel the first one is ‘long’ and the last is silent.”

Scott shook his head; leave it to his brother to remember something he’d been shown and try to turn it to fit to make him right.

“Those are rules of English; Dalai Lama is not an English title.  It’s Tibetan and that’s the way it translates.”

Scott turned back to his reading with the hope that if he was ignored, Johnny would go find someone else to pester.

“Scott, Scott … hey, I got another question.”

The blond sighed and lowered his book.

“What is it now?”

“If the Dalai Lama had toy animals, would you call them the Dalai Lama’s dolly llamas?”

 Murdoch was nearly knocked down as his dark-haired son rushed through the French doors, pursued by an irritated blond who was taking aim at his departing brother with the book he’d been reading.

 

~end~
1/3/2010

Want to comment? Email PaulaR