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Parties by Pharaoh	By : drowsteel Category: +S through Z > Venture Brothers Views: 5538 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Venture Brothers, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Author's Note: This was originally going to be part of my "Necronomicon World Tour" in the Books-Call of Cthulhu section, but it got too long. Please check out that 'fic also.

“I really don’t know what the right theme is,” Triana said, flipping through the phone book. “Dad’s got all these groups that get in drum circles. What kind of a party is that?”

Kim looked thoughtful, twirling a strand of pink hair between her fingers. “I guess it’s like...self-discovery, or something. I totally think you should go with something else.”

“Totally,” Triana agreed. She placed her finger in the book. “Check this out. Does this spell Dad or what?”

Kim peered over Triana’s shoulder, following her finger down to an ad in the yellow pages.

“Black Pharaoh Hosting Service,” Kim read aloud. The advertisement had a silhoette of an Egyptian king. “Looks cool.”

“Looks expensive, though. Think I should call?”

“Yeah,” Kim said. “It can’t hurt to ask.”

Still looking at the book, Triana put the phone on speaker and dialed. It rang twice before a deep, smooth voice answered.

“Black Pharaoh Hosting Service,” said the smooth voice, “this is Leland Gaunt, how may I help you?”

“Hi,” Triana pushed the phone book away from her. “I’m trying to plan a birthday party for my dad...”

“He’s a necromancer,” Kim chimed in.

“...right, he’s a necromancer, and it looks from your ad like you’d probably have a good style for him. I just wanted to know what your rates are, and what services you could give us?”

A resonant, warm laugh came through the phone. “Oh, my dear. We are a complete party planning service, we take care of everything.”

Triana felt her hopes sink. That sounded expensive. Kim mouthed the words ‘too much’ at her without making any noise.

“And as you say, our owner’s aesthetics are very in touch with necromancers.” The voice hesitated. “Could you wait just a moment?”

“Sure,” Triana answered. Some low music started playing as Leland put them on hold. “Shit, this place is too fancy. I’m going to hang up before he gets back.”

Kim held out her hand. “No, I like this guy’s voice. Let’s just let him talk, then tell him it’s too expensive.”

“But he’s going to try to sell us stuff...”

The music clicked off. “Miss?” Leland’s voice returned.

Triana’s finger hovered over the talk button. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“I’ve just spoken to the owner,” Leland said with a happy tone. “He asked if this was the daughter of Byron Orpheus?”

Triana and Kim looked at each other.

“Yeah,” Triana said. “This is Triana Orpheus.”

Leland’s rich laugh sounded again. “Oh, my! Apparently we would like to offer you a complimentary service!”

“Seriously?” Triana’s eyebrow raised. “The owner knows my dad?”

“Oh, only by reputation,” Leland said. “But apparently this is exactly the kind of project that our owner has waited for, and we’d like to offer this birthday party as a promotional engagement.”

“Whoa,” Kim smiled. “That is sooo awesome.”

“Are there two of you?” Leland asked pleasantly.

“Hi, I’m Kim,” Kim smiled at the phone. Triana had the feeling that her friend was developing a crush on Leland.

“Pleased to meet you, Kim,” Leland said. “You’re a friend of Triana’s?”

“Yeah,” Kim replied. “Your voice is really cool.”

“Yours as well,” Leland didn’t miss a beat. “It makes me think of a woman who has a sense of style.”

Kim beamed. Triana rolled her eyes. “So,” Triana said. “I’ll call you back with details?”

“Oh no no,” Leland coaxed. “I told you, my dear, we take care of EVERYTHING. All you had to do was call.”

“Wow,” Triana blinked. “Don’t you want my address or anything?”

“No,” Leland replied. “I’m already planning this special day, my dear. In fact, I’ve got to tear myself away from even two such charming ladies, there’s work to be done.”

“Bye, Leland,” Kim called.

“See you soon,” Leland answered.

Triana ended the call. “Come on!” she said to Kim. “He’s probably all old!”

“Nah,” Kim closed her eyes and pictured her dream man. “I say he’s twenty.”

Triana gave her a look. “I bet he’s my dad’s age.”

Kim shrugged. “Maybe he’s a Sean Connery type.”

“I’m going to evict these people,” Doctor Venture grumbled. “Dean, find another girlfriend, Triana’s going to be homeless by this afternoon!”

“But pop, you can’t kick Doctor Orpheus out on his birthday!” Hank protested.

“You can’t send Triana away!” Dean yelped.

Doctor Venture glared at the decorating crew that were remodeling his compound. Almost three hundred people were transforming it into a huge, black sphinx on the outside and a gothic Egypt inside. Large murals and statues were being carried in constantly.

“And another thing!” Rusty turned to his sons. “Why don’t the two of you ever go to this much trouble for my birthday?! Triana hires a whole construction crew, and I get lousy ties on my special days? You’re both ingrates!” He stormed off.

The Venture boys watched their father walk away, yelling at decorators as he went.

“He’s not serious about Triana, is he?” Dean asked nervously.

“Nah, he’s probably just jealous ‘cuz we never built a sphinx for his birthday,” Hank speculated. “Hey, we should totally go for a ninja style party for Pop this year!”

“AWESOME!” Dean put out his fingers in a V gesture.

“GO TEAM VENTURE!” They shouted together.

“Wow,” Kim admired the gothic architechture now filling the Venture compound. “You seriously got your money’s worth.”

“No kidding,” Triana felt a little guilty about not paying for the extensive party planning. “Did you see the party invitations?”

Kim whisted. “Yeah, I got one. Invitations written by Sutter Cain himself. Your dad is gonna be SO blown away. Does he know?”

“Not yet,” Triana said. “God, I hope he doesn’t expect this again next year.”

“Probably not,” Kim answered. “Your dad seems pretty cool for an old guy. Hey, have you met Leland in person?”

Triana looked hard at Kim. “How come you mentioned him right after you said ‘old guy’?”

“For-get it!” Kim rolled her eyes.

As if summoned by talk of old guys, a portly man dressed all in black approached. He was wearing a skull shaped mask.

“Greetings, Triana Orpheus,” he spoke in a droning monotone voice. “I am Doctor Henry Killinger.” He held up his black doctor’s satchel. “And this is my Magic Murder Bag.”

“I remember you,” Triana waved. “This is my friend Kim.”

“Hello, Kim,” Killinger regarded her briefly. “Miss Orpheus, I believe that you may have stumbled into powers that you do not understand. This party you plan may be an unmitigated disaster.”

Kim folded her arms. “Well, screw you, too.”

“So what are you saying?” Triana asked. “That evil powers are going to ruin my Dad’s birthday party?”

Killinger nodded. “Precisely, Miss Orpheus. This party is planned by a greater force of evil than even I am prepared to disclose.”

Kim and Triana looked at each other, then back at Doctor Henry Killinger.

“A supremely evil...party planner?” Kim asked. “Isn’t that like...supremely stupid?”

“You may laugh now,” Killinger warned, removing his umbrella from the Magic Murder Bag. “But there are many faces of evil which accompany Mr. Leland Gaunt.”

With that, Killinger opened his umbrella and floated away.

“That’s pretty cool,” Kim said.

“I think Dad is really going to like this party,” Triana answered.

“Wow, maybe I was wrong,” Doctor Venture leered at the scantily dressed dark-skinned serving girls as they moved from guest to guest.

“Yeah, this is some setup,” Brock looked at the decorated compound’s interior. “I think these waitresses are genuine Egyptians.”

“Brock, please,” Venture scoffed. “They’re just costumed Mexicans. Mmmm.”

“Yeah, well.” Brock scanned the crowd of guests. “Holy crap, who sent the invites?!”

Doctor Venture was no longer listening; he was hypnotized by a waitress’ swinging hips. He completely missed that Molotov Cocktease had just entered the compound.

“Jeez, Doc Orpheus doesn’t even know her,” Brock grumbled. “The guest list must have been done up wrong, huh?”

“I don’t think so, Mister Samson,” answered the cute serving girl who’d sidled up to him.

Brock looked at her. “Whoa, sorry. I thought Doc was still standing there. Say, are those potstickers?” He picked up a pastry which was obviously not a potsticker off the tray.

“Enjoy, Mister Samson.” The waitress smiled at him coyly before fading back into the crowd. Brock looked on even after he couldn’t see her anymore before popping the pastry into his mouth.

“Brohk Saimpsohn,” came the havilly accented Russian voice. Brock jumped.

“Jeez! What is this, ‘sneak up on Brock’ day?!” Brock choked on his pastry, feeling something distinctly hard between his teeth. He pulled it out and stuck it in his pocket, noticing briefly that it felt like a key.

“Oh, Brohk,” Molotov dug her fingers into his back roughly. “I ahm so glahd you invieted me.”

Brock winced in a mix of pleasure and pain. “I didn’t invite you,” he breathed. “But since you’re here, I might as well come in.” He turned and kissed her hard, twisting her arm. She wrapped her legs around him and bit his shoulder. A crowd watched them fight their way upstairs.
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Parties by Pharaoh