Preamble:
The comment threads on
LOLMac often spawn silly little ficlets riffing off the daily image. Sometimes several people will spark off from each other (the best of these ended up winning a GateFic award).
The most prolific of the talented gang is a woman known as Thothmes. This exchange started with a LOL from the Citan commercial trailer.
We started discussing the virtues of vans, especially for one such as MacGyver:
Thothmes:
I will note that my van holds not only the usual safety stuff (blankets, first aid kit, jumper cables, flashlight etc.) but a waterproof case with strike-anywhere matches, flint-and-steel, Swiss Army knives, Coleman Swiss Army eating utensils (which have fold in spoon, knife, and fork), duct tape, electrical tape, and Beloved Husband's endearingly un-updated aviator sunglasses. Mac would approve.
Mac wouldn't necessarily go for the collection of random MacDonald's Happy Meal toys, the crayons, the assorted Very Girly hairclips and ties, and multiple abandoned handed-back school assignments. The year-round hockey gear would be okay. Me:
Now I want to write something in which Mac uses the Happy Meal toys, crayons, and girly hairclips.Thothmes:Using a dab of the melted wax from the pink crayon on the dashboard
(thank goodness it's August! thought Mac) he affixed the hairclip to the Happy Meal mammoth, and handed it to little Eliza.
"See! It's a girl mammoth," he said soothingly.
There were a few hiccupping breaths, but the sobbing stopped, and Eliza gave him a watery smile.
"Thank you, Mr. MacGyver!" she said at last.
"Mac will do," he said modestly with an answering grin.
Me, after some thought:The thugs shoved MacGyver into the back of the van, and with his hands cuffed behind him, he couldn’t control his fall. He landed painfully on the knobby plastic lump of one of the Happy Meal toys, and couldn’t suppress the squawk of pain. The thugs laughed as they slammed the door shut.
Good thing I dropped Eliza off. I think that was one of her favorites. There wasn’t a lot of room between the seats –
plenty of leg room, yeah, right. Not so much room for careless campers who forget to watch their backs – but he was able to squinch himself sideways until the toy was no longer digging into the small of his back.
It was the plastic mammoth, somewhat grimier than before, with the fancy hair clip still attached. Mac’s grin shone under the dirt and bruises on his face.
A little more wriggling – okay, a
lot more – and he had the thing in his hands. The back of the barrette was a thin slip of curved metal, thin enough to bend into the right shape, but stiff enough to hold up against the lock.
Thanks, Eliza. I owe you a new hair clip. 
Great as always, Beth! 
