![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragovianknight...but somehow I found myself writing, umm, crackfic.
In which KITT is a horse.
Michael picked himself up out of the desert dust, making it as far as hands and knees, shaking his head to try to clear it. The last thing he remembered was a storm - the sky now was clear - and a veritable firestorm of lightning hitting the ground perilously near the road near him and KITT.
KITT...
"Michael!"
The panicked voice was unmistakable; KITT must have been trying to get him to respond for a while. Michael pushed himself to his feet and turned toward the voice.
He rubbed his eyes. Where there ought to be a gleaming black car, there stood a gleaming black...horse.
"KITT?"
The horse rolled his eyes, hooves tapping a nervous rhythm on the hard earth as he jittered in place. "Michael, look at me!" The horse's mouth wasn't moving, but the voice was definitely emanating from that direction. "I'm...organic!"
"KITT?" Michael took a few steps sideways, kind of hoping that his car was parked behind the horse. no such luck.
"I'm a horse!"
Hearing KITT say it didn't make it any less...yeah.
"Settle down," Michael said.
"I'm a horse!" KITT repeated, sounding even more freaked out.
"Yeah, and I'm not getting any closer until you settle down."
Gradually, the hooves stilled; KITT lowered his head, blowing hard, eyes still rolling. Michael warily moved closer, finally laying one palm flat on the warm, sweat-slick neck. KITT's skin twitched at his touch.
"How did this happen to me?" KITT demanded, turning his head and butting Michael in the chest with his nose.
"You got me, pal."
"I have no scanners, I have no data processors, I have these disturbingly fragile limbs, and I don't even want to talk about the limitations of my vision." KITT began to fidget again as he listed the limitations of his current form; one hoof stamped the ground perilously near Michael's foot. "I'm not supposed to be a horse, Michael!"
"And I'm not supposed to be a cowboy," Michael replied, finally taking in the worn leather chaps, the sweat-stained bandana around his neck, and the crumpled hat lying on the ground near where he'd regained consciousness. "But at the moment, I think we're both stuck."
Edit of "all things come down to the Lone Ranger": So, the way I figure, there's a reasonable way and an unreasonable way to proceed with this.
KITT: I hope the reasonable way is that you stop writing and we all forget this ever happened.
No. The reasonable way is that I take this fine opportunity to turn this into a crossover with the Lone Ranger.
KITT: Oh dear. I shudder to think what you consider unreasonable.
You and Michael find yourselves in the little town of Wildside, California.
KITT: Wildside? That show lasted six episodes. Three people watched it. And I don't think you can even name all the characters.
That's what the internet is for, KITT. Research.
KITT: *sighs* I'm just going to go eat hay, or something.
In which KITT is a horse.
Michael picked himself up out of the desert dust, making it as far as hands and knees, shaking his head to try to clear it. The last thing he remembered was a storm - the sky now was clear - and a veritable firestorm of lightning hitting the ground perilously near the road near him and KITT.
KITT...
"Michael!"
The panicked voice was unmistakable; KITT must have been trying to get him to respond for a while. Michael pushed himself to his feet and turned toward the voice.
He rubbed his eyes. Where there ought to be a gleaming black car, there stood a gleaming black...horse.
"KITT?"
The horse rolled his eyes, hooves tapping a nervous rhythm on the hard earth as he jittered in place. "Michael, look at me!" The horse's mouth wasn't moving, but the voice was definitely emanating from that direction. "I'm...organic!"
"KITT?" Michael took a few steps sideways, kind of hoping that his car was parked behind the horse. no such luck.
"I'm a horse!"
Hearing KITT say it didn't make it any less...yeah.
"Settle down," Michael said.
"I'm a horse!" KITT repeated, sounding even more freaked out.
"Yeah, and I'm not getting any closer until you settle down."
Gradually, the hooves stilled; KITT lowered his head, blowing hard, eyes still rolling. Michael warily moved closer, finally laying one palm flat on the warm, sweat-slick neck. KITT's skin twitched at his touch.
"How did this happen to me?" KITT demanded, turning his head and butting Michael in the chest with his nose.
"You got me, pal."
"I have no scanners, I have no data processors, I have these disturbingly fragile limbs, and I don't even want to talk about the limitations of my vision." KITT began to fidget again as he listed the limitations of his current form; one hoof stamped the ground perilously near Michael's foot. "I'm not supposed to be a horse, Michael!"
"And I'm not supposed to be a cowboy," Michael replied, finally taking in the worn leather chaps, the sweat-stained bandana around his neck, and the crumpled hat lying on the ground near where he'd regained consciousness. "But at the moment, I think we're both stuck."
Edit of "all things come down to the Lone Ranger": So, the way I figure, there's a reasonable way and an unreasonable way to proceed with this.
KITT: I hope the reasonable way is that you stop writing and we all forget this ever happened.
No. The reasonable way is that I take this fine opportunity to turn this into a crossover with the Lone Ranger.
KITT: Oh dear. I shudder to think what you consider unreasonable.
You and Michael find yourselves in the little town of Wildside, California.
KITT: Wildside? That show lasted six episodes. Three people watched it. And I don't think you can even name all the characters.
That's what the internet is for, KITT. Research.
KITT: *sighs* I'm just going to go eat hay, or something.
