stephbg | The voices in my head

I know there's more to life than dialogue, but it seems to make life easier for me to get some words on the page/screen for random scenes for Patience if I just transcribe what the voices in my head are saying. This is off the top of my head first draft stuff, and I can fill in the directions later.

I won't be doing wordcounts to mark progress. I prefer to think in terms of story elements, character sketches, and scenes. This is purely for my own entertainment and development, and hopefully the amusement of my friends. I have no plans at this point to pressure myself into the goal of proper publication.

Just kill him

"Right, what should we do with this guy?"
"Well, he's standing in the way of the Queen's rightful ascent to the thrown."
"Correct"
"Can we kill him?"
"No"
"Why not? We used to do it all the time. No-one really dies, and we'll get him back later if we need him."
"Do you think he might be, oh, I don't know, annoyed about being killed?"
"Why? He gets to come back and fulfill his proper destiny eventually."
"They never really come back from the dead quite the same. And some of them seek vengeance which can take a bit of time to sort out."
"We could make it look like an accident. It would actually be an accident at that. We can do that."
"There's still the little issue of him being dead, which is not his destiny quite yet."
"But The Queen! She's more important than this guy's future as a—just a sec I have to look it up—an assistant barkeep. He doesn't have the cleavage for it for a start. We must restore the Queen to her throne immediately!"
"Why?"
"What?"
"Why is the Queen more important than this guy? He must have a name... you've got his record up, let me see, turn the screen a bit ... Barthat. It's our job to get everyone back in place, isn't it? Including Barthat?"
"Yes, but..."
"And if you happened to treat yourself to a pint of ale at Barthat's future place of employ, would you prefer to be served by a happy contented assistant barkeep, or a fretful zombie who feels quite rightly that the world has shafted the working man for nothing more than the Queen's convenience? Just how much urine in your ale do you think you can handle?"
"But I'll never go there!"
"You might."
"I'll make sure of it!"
"Quite sure of your destiny then, are you? No little surprises in your future?"
"Oh."
"Quite. And that's not even the point. What about Barthat's family, and reputation of the alehouse, and the convenience of the regulars? They're all stakeholders here, and we must do our best for all of them. The Queen will regain her throne, but first we attend to Barthat, and we do it properly."
"No killing then?"
"Not this time."
"Later?"
"Definitely. I promise there will be death."