Author's Note: This was inspired, of course, by a late-night viewing of Fantasia. We couldn't help but crack jokes about Raistlin and Dalamar all though the Sorcerer's Apprentice, and well, it had to be done....

"Fetch this, Apprentice. Clean this off, Apprentice. Stop that from devouring the town, Apprentice." Dalamar muttered to himself, dumping the bucket of water into the the stone chamber near the back of the room. "Work, work, work. He NEVER lets me have any fun."

"What was that, Apprentice?" Raistlin looked up from his book.

"Nothing, Shalafi." Dalamar assured him, dumping in the second water bucket. "Just filling this up like you asked me to." Note to self; advise Conclave that as well as plotting gods-know-what, Raistlin Majere also doubles as a slave-driver in his spare time.

Raistlin rubbed his eyelids and propped his staff against the stone table. "I am going to get some rest. Finish filling up the well, and then study this. I'll question you about it later."

"Yes, Shalafi." Dalamar nodded, head bowed respectfully.

Raistlin chanted words and vanished into thin air.

Wow, he must have been really tired, Dalamar mused. He seldom lets the Staff of Magius out of his sight. Dalamar had longed to study the magical staff himself, but Raistlin had promised that a Harvest Home would be held in the Abyss before he allowed that to happen.

The elf paused, and glanced around the room, a slow smile stealing over his face. He walked over to the staff, and hesitated, his hand above it. Did he dare...

Taking a breath, expecting Raistlin to leap out of the shadows and flay his skin from his body, the elf wrapped his hand around the staff.

To his surprise, it did not protest the unfamiliar touch. It was cool against his skin, and he could feel the magic pulsing within it. He licked his lips nervously. "Shirak." he commanded, and the crystal immediately flared with light.

He hoisted the staff, enjoying the feel of it, the power it radiated. This was the bravest thing he had ever done in his life, the thought raced into his head. Raistlin MIGHT allow him to live for spying on him, but not for this.

If he got caught, that was.

Well, in for penny, in for pound, he reasoned. He had it, now what was he going to do with it?

His eyes fell on the buckets laying on the floor near the well. There was a start. He waved the staff at a broom and laughed in delight as it sprouted arms and began to walk across the floor.

The broom lifted the buckets and obediently followed Dalamar out of the door, and down a flight of stairs to an outdoor fountain. It then filled the buckets and followed him back upstairs, where it politely dumped the water into the well.

Dalamar flopped back into Raistlin's chair and put his feet up on the desk, caressing the Staff of Magius. His eyelids felt heavy, and he envisioned himself standing on a hill in Silvanesti, the elves below him cowering in fear. He was the Archmagus Dalamar, come to seek his vengeance on his narrow-minded kinfolk. Lightning flew from the tip of the staff, knocking down a building and he laughed as elves ran out, scurrying for their lives. The stars themselves shifted in the sky, reforming into an image of his own face and the elves gasped below. "Spare us, oh spare us, please let us live." They whimpered.

He laughed, wondering if he should grant their request, or maybe send them all into exile, never to walk in Silvanesti again...

Thunderclouds gathered overhead, and rain fell hard on the elves, including Dalamar. He raised his head to brush the water from his eyes. My, there was certainly a lot of it...

Dalamar sat upright in Raistlin's chair, or would have if it hadn't tipped over and dumped him ears first into waist-deep water. He gasped to see the broom dump more water into the over-flowing well and then go back for more.

He waved the staff at the offending broom. "STOP. STOP THAT. I COMMAND YOU!"

The broom put down one bucket and raised an arm, making on obscene gesture at the elf. It then picked up the bucket again and went back for more water.

"Why, you son of a...get back here!" Dalamar ran after the broom. The broom began to run faster.

Various spells flashed into the young elf's mind.

Akular-alan suh tagolann jistrathar? No, what good was a dragonlance going to do him?

Ast bilak parbilakir, suh tangus moipiar? Well, maybe, but he couldn't think of a single dead person he could speak to that might have a solution to this.

Ah, this was it. "Kalith karan, tobanis-kar!" Bolts of electricity shot from his hands and smacked into the broom. The enchanted tool was splinters on the floor in seconds.

Dalamar leaned back against the doorframe, sighing in relief, when a flash of movement caught his eye. To his horror, each broom splinter was growing into a WHOLE NEW BROOM, each carrying two water buckets. They advanced toward him.

Dalamar ran back into the lab, slamming the door behind him. He could feel the brooms pounding against it and it gave way suddenly, knocking him into the water again. Oblivious to the prone elf, the brooms proceeded on their never-ending quest to put more water in the well.

`````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

"Is anyone home? Yoo-hoo, Raistlin?" Crysania peeked through a crack near the front door of the tower. "It's me. I brought you a fruit cake.."

No one answered. Well, she was sure Raistlin would be happy to see her. She'd just surprise him.

Crysania opened the door of the tower.

WHOOSH! A flood of water rushed out, crashing into the Revered Daughter, and escorting her firmly out of Shoiken Grove.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Raistlin sat up sleepily and blinked. He'd just had a dream that Crysania was surfing outside of his bedroom window.

The wizard slid out of bed, wincing as water seeped over his feet.

Why were his feet wet?

Raistlin started perplexed at the water on his floor, scratching his head. He reached automatically for his staff, and then remembered he'd left it in the lab. His eyes narrowed. Oh, someone was in SO much trouble...

He stormed out into the hall, staring in shock at the damage.

Various arcane objects went floating by.

"Ma...assster..." A Living floating on a plank drifted past, waving a deformed limb sadly. "I...think...the toilet...overflowed...again..."

Since his swimming skills were lacking, Raistlin used magic to get to his lab.

The room was almost completely destroyed. Brooms were everywhere, dumping water left and right. Those that weren't adding to the flood were busy beating a cowering elf over the head.

Raistlin threw his arms in the air, chanting. The brooms vanished, and the water disappeared, leaving over the path of destruction behind. Quivering in rage, Raistlin approached his apprentice.

Dalamar grinned up at him sheepishly, and held out the Staff of Magius. Raistlin snatched it from his hand.

"First, Apprentice, you are going to clean up every BIT of this mess." Raistlin growled. "Then you are going to go track down the Living, and following that you are going to write a very sincere letter of apology to the Clerics of Paladine for drowning their leader!"

"Yes, Shalafi." Dalamar said contritely. He started picking up pieces of broken glass.

"And Dalamar, do you know what will ever happen if you touch this staff again?"

"What, Shalafi?" Dalamar said nervously.

Raistlin's lips twitched into a smile. "I know a very fat man, who lives in a very cold location, who is always looking for a few good elves.."

Dalamar gulped.

"I'm going to return to my nap." Raistlin nodded, seeing Dalamar understood. "I want this room spic and span by the time I return."

Dalamar nodded. "Yes, Shalafi." his voice was tight and higher than usual.

Raistlin smirked. "Ho ho ho, Apprentice."

And he was gone.