Posted on Friday, 4 October 2002
This is the tale of the noble Sarah Marie, to celebrate her nineteenth birthday. Although her life has but just begun, she has an impressive list of accomplishments before her. Was it not her who created the automatic sheep-shagger, for lonely hill sheep; and the laser-targeted fish-slapper, capable of hitting its target in the face from a distance of three miles?
Yes, she has lived a full and interesting life, and here we will begin to show a small part of it.
We begin our story with her first session in chat. Sarah clicked on the "Let Me In" button with all the naiveté naturally found in all first time chatters. It wouldn't take long for her to realize that she'd fallen into a madness that she'd never escape from. For the infamous Tabbi and Coleen were present in chat that day, full of mischief and already tossing fish and Nutella about the room. Not to mention they had poor Darcy chained to a bed, cackling madly. Quite sure that she'd stumbled into the wrong chat, Sarah quickly logged out, and upon returning, was brought face to face with the same events she'd left.
This event is thought to have affected Sarah's brain, making her slightly more normal. How crazy she was before, we'll never know.
She looked down on Darcy with fear and loathing. "Who is this person?" she cried. "Take him away!" The chat froze in shock for two days.
In shock at her reaction to Darcy a plan was instantly set in motion by the ever resourceful Dwiggies. With careful arrangement, they could use her to distract all the rakes and villains, protecting their favorite characters, and without providing any extra competition to themselves.
Their first target:
Wickham! For Sarah was still young and that ought to appeal to his lecherous cravings. So with a swagger and charming smile, our first rake was brought into chat to work his magic. At first, his looks sent our youngling into a swoon, but when he started harping on about his misfortunes, she soon got sick of hearing about it. I mean, after all, the whole world revolved around her, dammit!
Wickham whined. He pleaded. He begged. He clutched at her ankles, to no avail.
Until...
Collins was enjoying his walk along the path that separated Hunsford and Rosings, his face flushed and sweating profusely. It had been but two hours since he'd last called upon his beloved Patroness and he was feeling lax in his duties as a clergyman. However, before he could turn toward the noble estate, he glimpsed a scandalous rendezvous.
Some poor young lady was desperately trying to escape the lecherous clutches of none other than Mr. Wickham. Sniffing loudly in disapproval, Collins strutted forward to scold and sermonize.
At the sound of nearing footsteps, Sarah looked up and was instantly mesmerized by the stud in front of her. As he gulped and spluttered and wiped at his glistening brow, Sarah's heart began pounding within her chest.
"My dear sir, madam! This is rather inappropriate behavior and I am taken aback to find you acting thusly. And in a public display no less. You, sir, are to be pitied and scorned for your lack of gentlemanly behavior. However, it might have been disregarded if this was your only indiscretion. After listening to the lewd annotations and suggestions spewing from your mouth, I am heartily ashamed to acknowledge you as the same species." Collins gulped. "As for you madam, it would credit you to the highest degree to distance yourself from this ghastly creature who calls himself a man. As my Noble Patroness, The Honorable Lady Catherine DeBourgh once said, 'it is astonishing the extent a woman will go to capture a man, any man, whether he be worthy or worthless, just to be married'. I can guarantee you will never see such a noble lady act in such a manner."
His every word was like a drink of the sweetest wine, and Sarah soon began to sway. She would likely have hurt herself in the fall if it weren't for Mr. Wickham who had been still hanging from her leg. As it is, her fall knocked the man unconscious and freed her from his grasp. Collins, ever a knight in shining perspiration, bent over the lovely young woman and proceeded to give her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.
Sarah slowly awoke, then passed out from the smell of Collins' breath. Collins continued to try to revive her, but to no avail. Finally, he tore at his clothing, and fell into despair! She was dead, dead! He wandered off into the woods, whimpering. Lady Catherine was most displeased!
Eventually, freed from the noxious vapors of Collins, Sarah awoke. He was gone! She hung her head down for a minute of silence, but Wickham was beginning to revive, so she kicked him in the head and moved on.
She wandered through the Kentish countryside in some distress; hungry, tired, and somewhat dishevelled. Wearily she trudged through fields of sheep (you can tell which one of us is writing this part, can't you?). In the distance she could just make out a shepherd, but as she called out, he ran away. Long minutes passed as she wandered further, then....
"Step right up! Step right up! Here at Thorpe's used carriages, we offer the best deals in yer two-seaters, yer four-seaters, even yer six-seaters. We've got them all here! Take this carriage - owned by an old woman who only used it once a week to visit her daughter one mile away. It's a bargain at -"
"Please, sir! Can you direct me -"
"Well! Hello, my good lady! Yes, yes! I think I can help you. Wešve got a nice little one-horsepower model, with lots of rack space for yer clothing purchaces, I kid you not! It eats up those roads like nobody's business! Just one hundred pounds and this little beauty's yours!"
"But I - I..."
He was a thin fellow, slightly greasy, and far from fashionably dressed. His tweed coat showed signs of wear, and his little pig-like eyes...
"I..." continued Sarah, "I...."
"Say what yer want, we've got it here at John Thorpe's Carriages!"
"I... I want you!"
"Well, now, that's a good model, yep, It' a good mile! Strong endurance, light touch, capable of a good bit of speed with you want it, and with a nice large axle... I think we can fix you up with one of those. If you'll come in the shop..."
He Said:
"Well, she told me she had never had anyone like me before, I kid you not! She screamed to bring the house down, and she just melted, melted in my arms. Said she had never seen anything like that before, and that it was simply unbelievable!"
She Said:
"I could barely feel it at all, he was so small, and after five minutes, he rolled over and fell asleep. I couldn't believe it!"
Still unsatisfied in her search, Sarah trudged on, determined. Her journey was long and lonely. Just when she'd about given up, she heard the most beautiful voice through a thicket of bushes, reciting a poem. Her heart began pounding in excitement and she walked quickly along the edge of the bushes, looking for a way through, but in vain! There was not an entrance to be found anywhere!
Oh, wretched nature! That She had to put a wall of bushes between her beloved and herself!
The voice continued from the other side, the owner of that voice, quite unaware of the emotional warring that a lonely lady was battling.
Sarah stopped sniffling abruptly when an idea came to her. Why, she was a woman of the nineties! She'd just use a chainsaw! BWAHAHAHAHA
Yanking on the cord, Sarah laughed maniacally as the engine roared to life. However, she wasn't prepared for the power of the chainsaw. It shook her arms so violently it was a wonder she could even keep hold of it. Up and down the row of bushes, the chainsaw swinging and cutting madly at the offending branches until finally it ran out of gas.
Sarah slumped to the ground, panting heavily and tossed the chainsaw away from her. Despite the sudden quiet, Sarah's ears continued to ring mercilessly, however, she was quite certain whoever had been speaking was gone.
There was a rustling in the bushes a few feet away, and a gentleman stepped through a small gap created by the rampaging machine. Spotting a young lady sniffling on the ground, he quickly approached. "I say madam! Are you quite all right?"
Sarah couldn't prevent her jaw from dropping open at the sight before her. For there, before her very eyes stood the most magnificent of the male species.
"Miss? Yoohoo?!" Henry Crawford waved a hand in front of her face, but she only continued to stare. "Hmm, not too bright, but, mmm-mmm what a looker!" he stated finally.
"Muh." Sarah gulped and tried again. "My name is Sarah."
"Ah! You do speak. I am Henry Crawford, at your service, madam!" he bowed, never taking his eyes from Sarah's ample chest. "And may I say it is lovely to meet you!"
"Oh, TAKE ME NOW!" Before Henry could even process her words, Sarah had lunged at him and began ripping at his clothes.
"Madam! MADAM! Do stop...HEY! *Giggle* Stop that! That *giggle* tickles! Oooh, that's nice...no wait! GAAAAAAH!" Henry's cries for help were soon muffled as Sarah dragged him off behind the bushes. Poking her head out, she hung up a sign and disappeared once more. The sign simply said, 'If this bush is rockin', don't come a knockin'.
It would be months before either was seen again, but eventually Crawford escaped and has since entered a nunnery. If his screams echo through the halls of the abbey at night, well, it was never mentioned the day after.
And Sarah, once again, had to find another victim...er, lover.
Mansfield Park was the nearest house to the bushy loveshack, and it was there our anti-heroine now travelled. It was a very pleasant house, of the delightfully forbidding style. She waltzed up to the door, and pulled on the bell-pull.
"Yes?" said the butler, a tall, immaculately clothed fellow.
"Yes, hello! I'm here to meet any young and attractive men you might have."
"Oh. Very well, if you'll follow me...."
Rushworth: Rather pudgy, doesn't seem very intellegent, very rich: A Possibility
Tom: Somewhat roguish, disobedient to his parents: Unlikely. Not roguish enough
Yates: Obsessed with drama: Highly Compatible!
Edmund: Timid, bookish, has his head stuck up his arse - a rather good party trick, that. He needs me to bring him out of his shell!
Having successfully dealt with the men in the room, she moved on to the less interesting women.
Maria and Julia: Her kind of women!
Fanny: Mousy.
Mary Crawford: Why does she look so familiar?
Well, her mission was clear! She'd need to save Edmund from a life of boring normalcy! Now where'd she put her whip....
Edmund lay sleeping in his bed, cuddling up against his teddy bear, when the door flew open.
"Mummy?" he asked.
Sarah walked towards him. "Right, Edmund Bertram, I know anyone as straight-laced as you jjust needs a little push.
"Domine protecte nos, pater nostrum..." He held up his teddy bear protectively. With one crack of her whip, Sarah knocked it out of his hands. "Waaaah!!!!"
"Oh, shut up you big baby!" He began sucking his thumb.
The door crashed open again. "Right, Edmund, that Mary Crawford is... who are you?"
"I'm Sarah Marie, and he's MINE!"
"Oh, you think so?" Fanny lashed out with her whip.
"Ouch! Why you little..." Sarah tried to whip Fanny back. Fanny blocked with her own whip, entangling them mid-air, and with a quick jerk Fanny wrenched the whip from Sarah's hands.
"He Is Mine!" cried Fanny. Sarah sighed and left. Edmund whimpered.
Sarah was accosted in the hallway by Mrs. Norris who mistakes her for one of the servants. Immediately the old bat began scolding her about the proper behavior of a servant, the repercussions of slacking, and her mode of address to one of her station. Taking in the stained and ripped cloth on Sarah's dress, Mrs. Norris continued on about how the servant of such a noble family should dress. Sarah tried running away, but only ended up getting lost in the many caverns of Mansfield Park. Mrs. Norris' voice screeched and echoed down the corridors... there was no escape from the madness!
Suddenly, Pug came barreling around a corner and started yapping madly at the intruder. Unable to stop, Sarah tripped over Pug, and went flying down two flights of stairs and out the door of the noble estate.
Traumatized, and severely injured, from her run in with the shrew, Sarah Marie hobbled back to the safety of the DWG where she spent the remainder of her years babbling incoherently, writing gibberish, and tormenting all new comers.
It is said that, although her journey was full of adventure and shagging, Sarah Marie continues the search for her One True Love.
And in conclusion we, the author and authoress of this story, wish her joy and happiness...on her 19th Birthday-October 5, 2002.