Theme # 45: Tarantallegra
You Asked, Daddy Darling


Gold breathed a sigh of relief as she managed to find herself an empty room. This party, she had not wanted to attend - she was no fan of the Masons, people her father had met through business and, much as the teen loved a free drink of butterbeer, she had not wanted to come to this party, tonight.

-- It did not even have the redeeming quality of the presence of some cute boys. Just .... boring men in business suits, and women in pretty, black dresses, who flashed huge, white smiles, and talked in totally professional voices that sounded computerized. Or fake. Yeah, one of the two.

"Gold," Mr. Laksh knocked at the door. "Are you in there, darling?"

She clicked open the lock, and poked her head out. "Yes, dad?"

"Mr. Mason is asking about you," Mr. Laksh replied. "I told him I would -- what's wrong, sweetheart? You don't look too happy."

"This party is boring, dad!" Gold complained, with a pout. "There are no cute guys, no free butterbeer, no boy talk!"

"Anything else?" Mr. Laksh asked, with a grin.

"Mr. Mason dances like a spider under the effects of a Tarantallegra-gone-wrong," she said, sweetly.