Beginning, Section II, Next Section

Romantic Expression and the Art of the Epistle

Conference room

Edmund stood in the middle of the conference room, contemplating the candlestick with fascination. He was still trying to grasp the fact that he had nearly killed William Collins. Of course, killing someone was a wrong thing to do -- even someone like Collins -- yet he derived a small amount of pleasure thinking about his recent acts of violence. He, Eddie 'Wuss' Bertram, for once in his pathetic, pusillanimous, fearful, cowering life, had demonstrated -- Decision! Forcefulness! Firmness! Resolution! Just like Captain Wentworth's hazelnut. When he had first smacked Collins with that wonderful candlestick, a sort of "I'm-not-going-to-put-up-with-this-any-longer" determination had washed over him. He basked in the feeling. He must be improving, then. He had even used a pistol! (True, his shooting could use a little work, but surely Musgrove would attend to that.) Just imagine! Mama would be so proud. (Not that she wasn't proud of dear Baby Eddie already.) And Daddy too! How amazed, how astonished, how happy he would be to know of his second son's progress.

And Mary... Mary would be proud, too. Mary would be more than proud. And Mary was a very -- ahem -- liberal and -- ahem! -- forward woman for her time... Eddie began to fall into a simpering, feminine swoon.

At this embarrassing point the door of the conference room flew open. "Attention!" barked a decidedly male baritone in his most authoritative quarterdeck voice. Not that Eddie had any idea of what a quarterdeck was, of course.

Startled, Eddie dropped the candlestick and snapped out of his rather unclergyman-like mental wanderings. He turned around to face a tall, uniformed Naval officer. "Sir?" he squeaked. He blinked. "Mommy?"

"Ah... no," said the sailor with a trace of chagrin. "That's just Shemmelle and Sania's idea of a joke. And Caroline Bingley's idea of proper costuming."

Eddie nodded with feigned comprehension and tried to look intelligent; however, he ended up looking very foolish. "Of course," he said, trying to imitate the officer's voice. His voice cracked. The officer winced.

"Ahem, moving on. My name is Frederick Wentworth -- Captain Wentworth to you... and most decidedly NOT, under no circumstances, Fred!" He stuck out his hand; Eddie quailed at the grip. The Captain rolled his eyes.

"My cousin is in the Navy!" Eddie blurted out.

"Is he anything like you?" asked Wentworth dubiously.

"Uhh... I don't think so... not really, I guess."

"Thank God," said Captain Wentworth energetically. "Britain is still safe."

Eddie looked confused and wondered whether he should be insulted.

"Moving on," directed the Captain. He reviewed some papers on his clipboard. "You have had lessons in gentlemanly behavior from Knightley and how to be happy from Bingley, I understand?"

Eddie nodded, with his mouth open so that he looked rather like a fish. {image}fish.

"And," Wentworth grimaced. "'The Joys of Patronship' -- by William Collins," he muttered, rolling his eyes.

"I almost killed him!" Eddie burst out excitedly.

Captain Wentworth raised an eyebrow. "Oh, that is excellent news," he said coolly. He took off his gloves. (He was wearing his dress uniform.) "Now, down to the brass tacks. I have received orders from my admiral to conduct a lesson in 'Romantic Expression and the Art of the Epistle.'" He looked at Eddie thoughtfully. "So, how's your writing?"

"Ummm... I write sermons..." Eddie mumbled, "...But very ill."

Wentworth sighed. "All righty then. Perhaps we will proceed with Romantic Expression first --"

"What's that?" asked Edmund, gaping at him. {image}fish

Wentworth pursed his lips with displeasure. Acting Rear Admiral Ashbourne has some serious questions to answer... Where the devil is he, anyway?

Unspecified linen closet in the hotel:

Lord Ashbourne gasped in horror as the door of the linen closet was shut. And locked.

"Ahhh... madam, are we here to retrieve some linens?" Ash began nervously.

Tabbi giggled. "Of course not!" She rolled her eyes. "What do you think linen closets are for, anyway?"

"Well, I had always assumed -- Argh!" Ash screamed in pain as the base of his spine was jammed against a shelf.

Shelves in the closet. Happy thought indeed.

He rubbed his sore spine vigorously with both hands. "Wha -- wha -- What are you doing, Miss?" he asked in shock as Tabbi tied his wrists together with a table runner. He tried to loosen the knots. They didn't budge. "Upon my word, Miss -- wherever did you learn to tie knots like this?"

Tabbi giggled happily. "From the navy. I am very closely connected. The sailors have taught me a great many things," she said sweetly, batting her eyelashes innocently at him. "Admiral..." she cooed, wrapping her arms tightly around Ash.

"Acting..." said Ash weakly.

The conference room:

"On deck!" Captain Wentworth bellowed. Within a matter of moments, Colonel Fitzwilliam skipped in, wearing a ruffly pale blue dress. He was grinning widely. He found the whole business to be terrifically amusing.

"Yes Captain?" he simpered.

"Ah, Colon -- errr... Mary." Wentworth looked at the door suspiciously. "Ahem! All hands on deck, please...immediately!"

Grudgingly, Darcy slunk into the room, glowering, wearing a dress of pink lace.

"Thank you, Fanny," said Frederick sardonically, with a smirk. Darcy glared at him.

"Oh, great, it's Trigger Happy," said Darcy, still annoyed about Eddie' shooting mess. He was also rather annoyed that he had called Palmer and Musgrove in before finishing off the job and putting Collins out of commission for awhile.

Wentworth turned to Eddie, who was standing by with a bewildered expression. {image}fish. "Well, Eddie, let me see you address these... pretty young ladies." Fitzwilliam smirked; Darcy crossed his arms and glowered yet more intensely.

Eddie turned to "Mary". "Uhhhh... I think you should marry me," he blurted.

"Sure," said "Mary," with a grin that was quickly turned into a girlish giggle.

"Fitzwilliam!" hissed Wentworth in an annoyed whisper. "Don't encourage him!"

"I thought that was what young ladies did -- encouraged," Studmuffin/"Mary" protested.

"Not when he makes a blunder like that!"

Darcy/"Fanny" snorted. "Who are you to be speaking of social blunders, Mr. Wentworth?" he asked resentfully.

"That's Captain to you, Fanny, and on that score, who are you to chastise me about anything -- much less social etiquette, of all things?" Wentworth demanded angrily.

"I thought it was Frank Churchill who made blunders," Fitzwilliam/"Mary" remarked.

"Shut up!!!" Wentworth and Darcy screamed at once.

A happy Frank Churchill ran into the room. "Is anyone talking about me?" he asked hopefully.

"NO!!!" Wentworth exploded. "Get out!"

"Said I something amiss?" Eddie inquired meekly.

Frederick took a deep breath. "Try again."

"I think you should marry me," Eddie said to "Mary" again.

"Noooo..." said Wentworth with forced patience.

"What am I doing wrong?" Edmund whimpered.

"You don't say something like that to a woman. You have to... charm her. Captivate her. Romance her."

"Oh! I get it now!" said Eddie happily.

Captain Wentworth muttered, "Yeah, I bet you never get --"

Anne poked her head into the room. "Frederick!" she admonished reproachfully.

"Ah... sorry dear."

Darcy/"Fanny" waited until Anne had left, then snorted. "Humph! You know quite a bit about charming and romancing young ladies, don't you, Wentworth?"

"More than you could ever hope to know, Darcy," Wentworth replied calmly.

"Fanny" leaned back and smirked. "Well, Captain, that nearly did you in, didn't it? How would a shotgun marriage to Miss Louisa Musgrove have suited you, eh?"

Wentworth ground his teeth, "I recommend that you ought to reconsider lecturing me about the dangers of resentment and pride, sir," he said in a quiet, measured tone.

"Pride -- where there is a real superiority of mind, pride will always be under good regulation," said Darcy.

"Your superiority of mind?" asked Captain Wentworth sarcastically. "You can't even keep your little sister in line."

"That, sir, was a low blow," said Darcy.

Wentworth considered. "You are right. I was too hasty in speaking -- I should not have pulled a lady -- and such a young, sweet, and innocent one as Miss Georgiana -- into our conversation. But the fact remains that you seem to do little else but run about the country, convincing your easily persuaded friend not to marry a sweet and angelic young lady that he is in love with."

"And what about you, sailor?" asked Darcy, becoming angry. "What of your mental accomplishments?"

"I am captain of a ship! I have made my fortune with my own brains and my own hands -- not some inheritance. Don't you dare question my intellect!" Wentworth snapped.

"At least I am a gentleman!" Darcy retorted.

"Implying that I am not?" Wentworth asked calmly. "In what sense, sir? I believe there must be something more to the term than having an overbearing noble for an Aunt and belonging to the landed gentry."

Darcy began to say something, but Wentworth continued speaking in a deliberately restrained, level voice. "And my I remind you, sir, that had it not been for myself, your cousin --" pointing at Colonel Fitzwilliam -- "and others in the King's Service, your beloved family estate would very likely be in the hands of the French." Wentworth paused and smiled diabolically. "Perhaps I am wrong -- but DeBourgh, that is a French name, is it not?"

Darcy/"Fanny" looked apoplectic with rage, but before he could reply, Kimmie exploded through the doorway.

"Pig!!!" she yelled at Wentworth.

"Kiiimmmmmmmmiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Bridget screeched, running into the conference room. "He is not a pig!!!"

"Yes he is!"

"No he's not!"

"Yes he is!"

"No he's not!"

"Yes he is!"

"No he's not!!! -- And Darcy's a FISH!"

"WHAT?" Kimmie was aghast.

"Yeah, a cold, stiff, boring, wet fish. And a JERK!!!!!"

"No he's not!"

"Yes he is!"

Before another tennis match began, Wentworth's deeper voice shouted over Kimmie and Bridget's high-pitched screaming. "Ladies!" he thundered.

Bridget smirked. "Ladies? There are ladies? I don't see any ladies in here."

"Nah," agreed Kimmie. "Unless you count them, she added, pointing at "Mary" and "Fanny",

Bridget and Kimmie snickered. Wentworth just wanted to get them out so he could continue his lesson... and before Kimmie wrecked the carpet with drool over Darcy. "All right, ladies, nice to see you --"

"Aaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Taking a running leap, Meghan flung herself through the window into the glass-enclosed conference room. She flew through the air, hoping to land in Darcy's arms, but miscalculated and flew out the opposite glass wall, taking out an entire panel of glass. "Owwwwww..."

Kathy ran past. "Meggie! How many times have I told you to go in through the front door, not try to fly in through the window?"

"It's Bridget's fault. She put a curse on the windows. She's a witch -- just look at those green eyes," Meghan whined.

"Hazel!" Bridget protested.

Mosylu and Gabby walked by. "Hey Gabby," said Mosylu, poking her. "Hazelnuts." Gabby erupted into a fit of uncontrollable giggles.

"Hey, Crawford, honey, cooooooome baaaaaaaacccccckkkkkk!" Kathy called as she ran down the hall.

"Right here, babe!" Crawford said, whistling. "You're gorgeous, Kathy!"

"Um, Captain -- am I supposed to be jealous?" asked "Fanny", reviewing his notes.

Frederick was beginning to run out of patience. "Okay, can I get on with this?"

Kimmie interrupted him. "Hey! Pig! How dare you say that Darcy is charmless and unromantic!" She ran across the room and tossed herself at Darcy.

Bridget rolled her eyes. "It's nothing but the wet shirt, I swear." She tugged at Frederick's sleeve and he leaned down so she could whisper in his ear. "Hey Captain -- couldn't you have fallen off the ship or something?"

"No."

"Okay..." Bridget considered, twining her fingers around Wentworth's arm. "The hotel has a pool -- may be you could jump in there. You'd get a few converts, I'm sure."

"No. I have to teach this pathetic jellyfish excuse of a man a few things about winning a lady's heart."

Bridget giggled. "You better than anyone else, Captain," she murmured sweetly. "Maybe later?" she pleaded. "Please?"

Wentworth sighed. "We'll see." Bridget still had a tight hold on his arm. At least he was faring better than Darcy, who had Kimmie clinging to him.

"Geeze freakin' Louise, Bridge. You make me sick," Kimmie complained, who had left a considerable trail of drool down the front of Darcy's dress and, as Wentworth had feared, on the carpet.

Darcy tried to detach himself from Kimmie, meeting with little success.

Desperately, Frederick tried to think of an excuse to get the girls out of the conference room. Providentially, Henry Tilney walked by the door. Seeing Frederick telegraph an SOS signal to him, he called to Kimmie and Bridget to help him prepare for his lesson, as he could not find Tabbi around anywhere. (Wonder why...)

Squealing, both ran out of the room, Bridget taking one of Henry's arms and Kimmie taking the other. Frederick made a mental note to give his most mysterious-looking piece of treasure to Henry for Catherine Tilney.

Frederick turned his attention back to Eddie, who was cowering under the table.

Eddie shook his head and sobbed. "Nooooo... I want my Moooooommmmmmyyyyy."

"Oh, for the love of God," Frederick muttered. He drew his sword. "Get out from under there, Eddie. Remember, the whole point of this is to teach you to behave like a man!!! Now stop sniffling and get up here."

Eddie began to reemerge, but was terrified of Frederick's sword and began to back away and go under the table again.

Exasperated, Frederick put his sword back. "I could take you with one hand and no feet as it is," he muttered. "No need for the sword. Just force of habit."

Gulping and wide-eyed {image} fish, Eddie started back under the table, but was arrested by Frederick's icy glare. "Coming," he squeaked.

"Oh, man, Captain, I don't think Sania's going to like that kind of treatment of Edmund at all," Darcy said. "She'll be in here soon as she finds out what you're doing to Eddie."

"Sania?" Frederick considered. "Perhaps. Then again, perhaps not..."

Corridor on main floor of hotel, other side of conference room

Knightley politely helped the young lady off the floor, made sure she had no injuries from the impact or the glass, and sent for a maid to clean up the remains of the panel she had broken. He looked through the glass walls of the conference room. A parade of Austen men, most with Dwiggie ladies clinging to them, screaming obscenities at them, or chasing them, proceeded down the opposite hallway.

Charles Musgrove walked by, eyes glued to the floor as he was looking for the pistol he had dropped earlier. "Oh, hello, Knightley. You haven't seen my pistol by any chance? Capital gun -- second-sized double barrel of mine."

Knightley turned around -- then hastily jumped out of the way as John Willoughby dashed down the hallway. Young Margaret Dashwood sprinted after him, armed with a wooden sword. Close on her heels was Colonel Brandon, yelling, "Find yourself an occupation that is not seducing young ladies, you cad!"

Behind Brandon was Mrs. Dashwood, wielding a rolling pin. "Don't ever touch any of my daughters again, you louse!!!"

Following her was Edward Ferrars with another wooden sword, shouting, "Ma- Ma- Margaret! Here is another sword. Le- le- let me show you how to b- b- best attack him."

Chasing her husband, Elinor called, "Edward! Your socks do not match! And tie your shoe before you trip, dear."

Marianne Brandon poked her head out of the room across the hall, where Knightley's wife Emma was teaching her archery. "Christopher! Do not kill him! Just hurt him very, very, very badly."

Emma stepped out of the room and shot a well-aimed, rubber-tipped arrow at Willoughby. Willoughby staggered, and Margaret began attacking him with the wooden sword. "That is for my sister, you evil man... And that", she kneed him in the groin, "is for trying to seduce me," she said with satisfaction, as Willoughby screamed in pain. Mrs. Dashwood proceeded to batter him with the rolling pin.

Edward tripped over his shoelace. Elinor ran to him. "Oh, are you hurt, dear?" she asked, taking out a smiley-faced band-aid.

Knightley thought would be safe to venture across the hallway, but the moment he stepped forward, he was nearly run down by Leah and Margaret D tearing frantically down the corridor. (Not Dashwood -- the Dwiggie). "Eeeeeddddddddwwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrdddddd!!!!!!!!" they shrieked as they dashed past Knightley, who was plastered against the wall. "Say that you are not injured!!!!"

Knightley crossed the hall safely after they passed and peeked into the room to smile at his wife. Emma was shooting arrows with Marianne Brandon and Catherine and Eleanor Tilney at targets with pictures of all the Austen villians and cads. He was gratified to see that one target was Frank Churchill, another Philip Elton.

Going to the doorway of the next room, Knightley saw that Darcy's wife had invented a rather entertaining new game. Lizzy, Jane Bingley, Kitty Ashbourne, and Charlotte were taking turns hitting Collins on the head with heavy, blunt instruments. The moment one Collins went down, another appeared nearby, and was bashed on the head by one of the ladies. Like an arcade game, or Medusa's head. "Lizzy," asked Kitty, "Do you know where Ash is? I have not seen him since he introduced us to Lieutenant William Price, that nice sailor."

"Madness," mumbled Knightley, shaking his head. "Madness, it is all madness. Bedlam, definitely," he said, using his favorite phrase from Donwell Abbey is Let at Last? by CK.

Annie and Crysty came down the hallway, wheeling a cart full of baseball bats. "Here, Knightley, give these to the ladies for the Collins game. Show 'em how it's done," said Annie.

"All you've got to do is crook your little finger, Knightley, and I'm all yours," said Crysty, winking at him. "I'll even leave the King of Sweden for you! Just say you love me!"

Knightley took the cart into the room, but before he could demonstrate batting techniques, Lizzy, Jane, Kitty, and Charlotte ran out of the room. Emma, Marianne Brandon, and Catherine Tilney and her sister-in-law Eleanor ran out of the next room. Annie and Crysty got into place beside them. The Ferrars/Brandon/Dashwood menage came back down the hall to join them. Soon, a large group of Dwiggies and Austen characters had formed.

Conducted by Elli and Bingley, a chorus of Lizzy, Jane, Kitty, Charlotte, Mr. Bennet, Marianne and Colonel Brandon, Emma (who understood and was tolerant of Dwiggies' passion for her husband), Jane Fairfax, Mr. and Mrs. Weston, Admiral and Sophie Croft, Charles Musgrove, Mrs. Jennings, Sir John Middleton, Elinor and Edward Ferrars, Margaret Dashwood, Mrs. Dashwood, Margaret D., Leah, Annie, Crysty, the king of Sweden, Kimmie, Kimmie's three husbands -- Ricky Martin, Ewan McGregor, and Heath Leger -- Bridget, Jimmy Stewart, Henry Tilney, Catherine Tilney, Eleanor Tilney ______ and her husband, Arleen Leah, Tina, Kathy, Henry Crawford, William Price, Shemmelle, Sania, Dave (Elli's husband), Meghan, Gabby, Mosylu, Coleen, Mr. Palmer, Carrie, Rex Harrison, Caroline (our good Dwiggie Caroline -- not Caroline Bingley!), Tiki, Jem Blythe, Gilbert Blythe, Alethea, Tamsin, Kara, Zeb, Chris, Andrea, Asia, Edward Norton, Alan Alda, and Woody Allen began singing Just You, Just Me. (The dangers of listening to Woody Allen soundtracks while trying to write...)

Chorus: Just you, just me

Let's find a cozy spot

Where no one can see

Kathy, Gabby, Caroline: Just us, just we

Shem, Coleen, Carrie, Meghan We've missed an awful lot

What bliss it'll be

Crysty, Sania, Bridget, Tina: Oh gee

What are your charms for?

What are my arms for?

Chorus: Use your imagination

Kimmie and husbands: Just you, just me

We'll tie a lovers' knot

Chorus: Just say you love me

Elli and Jane B.: Just he

Dave and Bingley: Just she

Mosylu, Coleen, Arleen, Asia: And what a perfect plot

Just say you love me

Chorus: Ooh gee

Ooh my

It's finally spring time

Tam, Tiki, Kara, Zeb: And what a lovely day for love

Kathy: Just me

Henry Crawford: Just you

Carrie: Just you

Palmer: Just me

Leah, Margaret D., Annie: A bit of paradise

Right here for us two

Henry Tilney: Just you

Just me

Chorus: Let's find a cozy spot

Where no one can see

Rex Harrison: Just us

Carrie, Caroline, Meghan, Kara: Just the two of us

Jimmy Stewart: Just we

Gabby, Tiki, Tam, Andrea: Mighty few of us

Sania, Shem, Arleen, Bridget: We've missed an awful lot

What bliss it'll be

*brief instrumental interlude with Alethea soloing*

Crysty, Tina, Alethea: Just you

Just me

Chorus: We'll tie a lovers' knot

Just say you love me

"Bedlam, definitely," Knightley muttered, staring at the chorus. Sania suddenly jumped out of the chorus and ran up to him, sliding her arm through his. Elli directed the chorus to stop singing.

"Mr. Knightley! Oh, you must help me!" exclaimed Sania. "It is such madness around here! And you are so responsible... and organized... and logical... and... adorable... " Sania looked up at him sweetly. "You will help me, please? I am in such distress!"

Sania's appeal to Knightley's heroic rescuer instincts could not be denied. "Why, certainly, miss. What is it you need me to help you with?"

"Oh, there are so many things!" Sania sighed. "I love all the Jeremys. But I love you best of all." She kissed him on the nose affectionately. "Knightley," she murmured seductively, "Come with me and be my love."

"But I am married!" Knightley protested, shocked.

"Tough," said Sania, dragging him off.

Elli and Bingley motioned for the chorus to begin singing again.

Chorus (sans Sania): Cuddle up a little closer....

The conference room

"But what have I been doing wrong?" Eddie protested.

"You don't go up to a woman and say she should marry you," said Wentworth.

"But why?" Eddie asked, but Wentworth ignored him.

"Darcy tried that and look where that got him!"

"Aren't I married now?" Darcy frumbled.

"I was thinking about your disastrous first proposal. But we'll get back to that later."

"You have to tell her why she should marry you -- why you love her."

Eddie frowned, trying to comprehend this. "So I should flatter them? Like Henry Crawford?"

"NO!!!" Wentworth exclaimed. "The secret is to mean what you say. You have to have conviction, passion..."

Eddie tried again. "You should marry me!" he said to "Mary" in his most emphatic voice. "Because I love you! because... uhhhh...." Eddie pondered. "You are a forward young lady!"

"Mary" squealed with delight. Wentworth groaned, then looked pointedly at "Fanny", who flipped though his notes.

"Oh, right," said "Fanny," and started to cry.

"Was that better?" Eddie asked.

"Errmmm...." Wentworth began. "Ahhh... I suppose that is... an improvement... perhaps..." He groaned again. "Send me up against Napoleon any day. Far easier." The Captain pondered for several minutes, then began hesitantly, "Ahh... Eddie, perhaps part of your problem is that you are addressing the wrong woman."

"The wrong woman?" asked Edmund, puzzled.

"Yes... perhaps you are performing so miserably because Mary is not the woman you should be pursuing."

"Oh." Eddie sat down. As there was no chair where he placed himself, he landed on the floor, but this did not appear to trouble him. "Then who should I be pursuing?" he asked Wentworth with a puzzled frown.

"Ahem," said "Fanny", simpering.

Frederick looked up at the ceiling and addressed it. "Personally, I have never been an advocate of inbreeding, but with those two, what's the likelihood they'll have children anyway?"

"Ooohhh..." said Eddie, staring at "Fanny".

"So, am I free to go?" asked "Mary".

"Sure," Frederick replied. Colonel Fitzwilliam happily tossed off his wig and dress.

"And Colonel -- take care of yourself," Wentworth advised. "They're out there," he said cryptically.

Wentworth dusted off his hands. "Okay. On to part two."

"Did I do good?" Eddie asked.

Wentworth cringed. "Well," he corrected. "Good grammar is quite beneficial whenever you are speaking -- or writing, for that matter."

"So I did well?"

"Errr... I'll grade it as a pass/fail. You passed, if for no other reason than I want to get done with this. You are one of the most unteachable people I have ever met -- except for Dick Musgrove." He grimaced. "Part two: The Art of the Epistle."

Eddie began to cry. Captain Wentworth placed his hand threateningly on his sword.

"Aww, give him a break, Wentworth," said Darcy. "I heard that when Anne Elliot was persuaded to end your engagement you cried for six hours straight."

"Whether I did or not, I had an excellent reason," said Wentworth with dignity. "This milksop will cry at the slightest provocation -- or no provocation at all, for that matter."

"I'm a milksop?" asked Eddie, sniffling.

"That's a polite term," replied Frederick cheerfully. "On with the lesson."

Darcy mounted a soapbox. "I write letters too!"

Wentworth snorted. "Hah! What do you know about romantic letter writing?" He quoted, "'Do not be alarmed, madam, on receiving this letter, by the apprehension if its containing sentiments, or renewal of those offers, which were last night so disgusting to you.' -- Romantic indeed, Darcy,' he said sardonically.

"'I write without any intention of... humbling myself,'" Wentworth continued. "Sheesh, Darcy. And you say pride is a fault of mine? You have to humble yourself now and then -- say you messed up, say you're sorry, apologize, beg for forgiveness! ...And by the way -- your writing style is rather inferior. Can't you end a sentence! And you ramble on for five in a half pages in small-size print -- mainly related how sorry you should not be."

"That's not true! that's not true!" Darcy protested hotly.

"Mild exaggeration," said Wentworth pleasantly. "Merely for illustrative purposes. I am telling Eddie here what not to do."

Wentworth put down Darcy's letter and began to quote from memory. "'I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope.'" Wentworth glanced up, hearing the authoress (err... not Jane...) sigh ardently. He resumed, "'Tell me that I am not to late, that such precious feelings are gone forever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own, than when you almost broke it eight years in a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you.'"

*pause as Bridget picks herself up off the floor and ingests more caffeine to bring her out of her glazed-over state*

"Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant.'" Wentworth looked pointedly at Darcy, who scowled.

"'You alone have brought me to Bath. For you alone I think and plan. -- Have you not seen this? Can you fail to understand my wishes? -- I had not waited even these ten days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine. I can hardly write --'" (*sigh* same with me, Frederick, the authoress said dreamily) -- "'I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice, when they would be lost on others. -- Too good, too excellent creature! You do us justice indeed. You do believe that there is true attachment and constancy among men. Believe it to be most fervent, most undeviating in Frederick Wentworth.'"

Such a letter was not soon to be recovered from, so Frederick gave Bridget a little time before he continued.

"Well, Eddie, there you have it. That is how you write a love letter. Short, sweet, to the point, and highly romantic without being in the least bit soppy. -- And, thoroughly and sincerely meant."

"All right, all right," said Darcy grudgingly. "You will. But my letter wasn't really a love letter."

"Very well," said Wentworth kindly. "I'm sure you've improved in that department since you wrote that. Just remember -- I own that department."

Wentworth handed Eddie paper, a fountain pen, and ink. "You try," he said encouragingly.

Eddie sat down at the table.

"Dearest Fanny," he began. "What next?"

"That is for yourself to determine, and no one else," Wentworth instructed.

Eddie took a deep breath. "Dearest Fanny." Wentworth and Darcy looked at him expectantly. "Dearest Fanny."

"Yes, yes, that's been established," said Wentworth impatiently.

"I can't go on!" Eddie wailed.

Wentworth considered. "Well, trite and cliched, but you're just beginning, so I suppose it's acceptable."

"No! I mean I can't go on! I can't write any more!"

Wentworth sighed. "Okay, Fanny, that's your cue. Get back into character, Darce."

Darcy fumbled with his notes. "Wait -- what do I do again?"

"Oh, hell, I don't know -- just say something Fannyish. Give the poor guy a little inspiration."

Darcy paused, then trilled in a high falsetto, "Oh Cousin Edmund! I am so very disappointed! I would expect higher moral standards from you of all people!" "Fanny" began to cry.

"Yeah, that's sure inspiring," Eddie muttered.

Wentworth smirked. "Very good Darce -- that's exactly what Fanny would say."

Darcy curtsied daintily.

Eddie began to write frantically. "Dearest Fanny, I am so sorry to have disappointed you. I realize that I have been foolishly captivated by Mary Crawford, and my morals have suffered because of that."

Frederick clapped Eddie on the back, knocking the wind out of him. "You're making progress! Quite a bit of room for improvement, of course, but progress! Progress!" Eddie coughed and spluttered. Suddenly Frederick shouted, "The dust! The dust!"

Eddie blinked. "What?" he asked blankly.

"The blotting dust!"

"What the devil are you talking of, Frederick?" asked Darcy, equally confused.

"When I was writing my letter to Anne, my hands were shaking so much i accidentally knocked over the can of blotting powder."

"Okaaaaay... so what's your point?" said Darcy.

"Umm... just a point. Shem and Bridget made me say it."

Eddie had already seized the idea with enthusiasm. He pranced around the room, flinging fistfuls of blotting powder. Darcy quickly was covered in white powder, while Frederick stood by with a bemused expression.

Eddie, feeling manly and heroic, bravely threw Puddles, his teddy, out the Meghan-created hole in the wall.

Corridor near the conference room

Elli was trotting happily around the hotel, straightening out small problems in preparation for dinner, when she heard muffled screams, punctuated by occasional giggles and a bit of evil cackling coming from a nearby corridor. Turning the corner to investigate this problem, she detected the voice to be that of one Lord Ashbourne. She ran to the linen closet and unlocked the door for her master set of keys.

Ash stumbled out, looking pale and exhausted. Elli wagged her finger at Tabbi. "That was very naughty. You should be nice to Lord Ashbourne." She swatted Tabbi with a wooden spoon and Tabbi ran away, yelping. Huffing angrily, she was joined by Coleen, who told her Studmuffin was on the loose. Together, they ran off to torment him.

Elli untied Ash's wrists and dusted him off. "Can you hide me?" asked Lord Acting Admiral Ashbourne weakly.

Looking to make sure no other potential kidnappers were coming, Elli escorted Ash to the huge hotel kitchen, and kicked out Tamsin, who was making a dozen Nutella cheesecakes.

"You can help me prepare dinner," said Elli brightly.

Ash sighed in relief. What a nice lady.

Ash spent a very pleasant and peaceful hour cooking dinner with Elli. After putting the last apple pie in the oven, she turned to him. "Work now, play later," said Elli cheerfully. "Now we can play."

"Play?" asked Ash weakly.

The men's changing room

Darcy sprinted down the hallway and darted into the men's changing room, where -- he hoped -- Caroline Bingley would not dare to follow him. She had not been pleased with his complaints about the costuming. Happily, he had managed to avoid most of the larger objects Duckface had thrown at him. he stepped into the shower to rinse off the blotting powder Eddie had so liberally covered him in.

After several peaceful minutes in the shower, Darcy felt a rather gooey substance under his feet. unless he was very much mistaken, it was...

Drool?!?

Aghast, Darcy looked up. Staring at him, wiping steam off the window, were Meghan, Kathy, and Kimmie -- and behind them were a least a dozen other Darcyites.

Hiding Obvious Physical Faults with the Joys of Poetry ~ By Shemmelle

Elli was a little bit surprised, she thought, (being the wonderfully *motherly and Wifey* person that she was) she had had the upper hand over Lord Ashbourne, ( )not that she would have used this power to do anything more then perhaps adjure him to eat his vegetables, she was more then a little put out that Ash had managed to get his strength back.

They were playing Piquet, Elli did not think she liked piquet, indeed Elli was losing, she had no idea how to keep track of the points, or the cards or choose her cards wisely, she was continually rubiconed and had no idea what that even meant.

Suddenly Ash appeared to grow restless, and threw down his cards, Elli was incredibly happy about this.

"Say Elli, wasn't it? I'm a bit bored, lets do what Tabbi and I were doing in the closet!???!!?" Ash said rather brightly.

Elli almost fell off her chair "WHAT!!!!" she shrieked!

"Yes though I'm not sure what the point of tying my wrists up was! But I'm sure we can dispense with that. I wasn't enjoying myself at the start, but well I think I like Tabbi's program!"

Elli started to choke... "What about Kitty?"

"Oh I'm sure Kitty will enjoy it too.............once she has had the baby." Added Lord Ashbourne as an afterthought.

Lord Ashbourne sprung up and from somewhere *poof* came a stereo blasting " I will survive." (The original but with Cakes Lyrics....HEY it's MY story part here!)

Lord Ashbourne then sprung into some star jumps, and some aerobics slides.

Chorus of Interested Parties:

To the left, to the right, Squeeze, to the left to the right, Squeeze. And one and Two and Three and Four. Stretch those arms!

Elli Almost Swallowed her tongue...."This is what you were doing with Tabbi in the Closet.?????!!!!!!??????"

"Yes" panted Lord Ashbourne, "Tabbi says it's very important to keep up the cardiovascular fitness, I'll be soon entering those dangerous heart attack years!"

At first I was afraid
I was petrified
I kept thinking I could never live without you
By my side

Once Elli regained control of her vital functions she suddenly jumped up and joined Ash in some aerobics, which rapidly deteriorated into some film clip style dancing with lots of arm movements and crouches. (think Brittany Spears.... EVIL SMIRK) Suddenly from no-where, Sania, Kathy, Mo, Gabby, Crysty and Caroline. With Elli they formed a line of Chorus girls, which involved lots of shuffles from side to side. The girls somehow managed to the do the shuffles and walks by crossing their legs over each others and *not Fall over*

But then I spent so many nights
Just thinking how you've done me wrong
I grew strong
I learned how to get along

A Group Clap started, along with some fancy twirling from Caroline the dancer.

And so you're back

(points at various ex-boyfriends, evil character's etc)

From outer space
I just walked in to find you
Here without that look upon your face

Sania with her figure skates on her feet, did an intricate maneuver specially designed for the benefit of our dear Eddy, who unfortunately wasn't present, but that was good as Sania fell onto her face and had to get up using a break-dancing technique she had seen at a local disco.

I should have changed my stupid lock
I would have made you leave your key
If I had had know for just one second
You'd be back to bother me

Grease lighting style chorus, with the full arm extensions.

Well now go,
Walk out the door
Just turn around
Now, you're not welcome anymore

The Chorus energetically did a swinging hip turn, while waving an arm above their heads in a circular fashion, and the other hand planted on a hip (whose hip we shan't say)

Weren't you the one
Who tried to break me with desire?
Did you think I'd crumple?
Did you think I'd lay down and die?

Chorus: Screams the "Lay down and Die" at Willoughby, Elliot, Wickham, Frank.....Crawford in fact the entire *Villain* set that was passing by the door at the time. They were so frightened by the screams that they ran off down the corridor, (of course it was the chorus not Mrs. Dashwood with the rolling pin that scared them )

Oh not I,
I will survive
Yeah
As Long as I know how to love,

Chorus crosses hands across chest as it does a rather over zealous shimmy.

I know I'll be alive
I've got all my life to live
I've got all my love to give
I will survive,
I will survive
Yeah, yeah

From no where, a disco ball descends from the ceiling, the lights go out and strobe lights along with pretty coloured lights flash across the chorus.

It took all the strength I had
Just not to fall apart
I'm trying hard to mend the pieces
Of my broken heart
And I spent oh so many nights
Just feeling sorry for myself
I used to cry,
But now I hold my head up high

Chorus affects Caroline Bingley stance, lead by our own beautiful Caroline.

And you see me
With somebody new
I'm not that stupid little person
Still in love with you
And so you thought you'd just drop by
And you expect me to be free
But now I'm saving all my lovin'
For someone whose lovin' me

Chorus, mimes out the sort of man they would like to be loving them, surprisingly they all look like they are miming men from Austen's Novels. (Surprise! Surprise!) Kathy affected Crawford . Elli affected Knightley (but of course was thinking of Dave), Sania affected Edmund, Mo did a surprisingly complicated move with her *William Fitzroy*, Caroline did a remarkable fine impression of Colonel Brandon doing some Bowling Though perhaps she was after this man : and Gabby affected Henry Tilney ( but was wishing that Christopher would walk in the door)

Well now go,
Walk out the door
Just turn around
Now, you're not welcome anymore
Weren't you the one
Who tried to break me with desire?
Did you think I'd crumple?
Did you think I'd lay down and die?
Oh not I,
I will survive

Chorus revs up for the finale, by this time strangely enough the girls are dressed as show girls (possibly even some lyrics!!) and have acquired a large amount of skill, not that they didn't have any before of course! But they look very professional.

Yeah
As long as I know how to love,
I know I'll be alive
I've got all my life to live
I've got all my love to give
I will survive,
I will survive
Yeah, yeah
Oh no

Chorus affects large and dramatic finale as seen usually in over the top high school musicale productions.

Then as they all wondered what had come over them, they realised Lord Ashbourne had run away.

Somewhere where there is a shower........

Darcy was horrified, it was like one of those bad dreams. He looked slowly down and gave a sigh of relief. He was wearing Red-stripy trunk swimsuits. You know the kind that look like you are about 80 and belong in like a 1930's movie....well anyway.. Darcy was thankful that nothing untoward was seen by the 'Dwiggie Droolers.'

Darcy thought hard to himself, the ladies were so packed against the door that he doubted whether he would be able to get himself out alive, or at least with all body parts still attached. Darcy decided to continue showering, perhaps an idea would come to him.

Darcy looked at the volumes of drool and started to wonder whether he should start charging a fee.

Back in Conference Room 3b...(little Pratchett Joke)

Edmund was rather pleased with himself, he had learnt how to deal with people who won't shut up, learnt how to be happy, learnt how to almost kill people AND learnt how to write romantic letters to FANNY!

Now apparently he was going to have a poetry lesson, how charming thought Edmund. But then Edmund remembered the dreadful reputation of Lord Byron and began to think perhaps poetry wouldn't appeal to Fanny at all, he thought it might appeal to Mary though.......so he thought he would hang around.

Edmund sat himself down upon a chair and thought hard to himself. When the door burst open and a dramatic personae entered. He leapt up onto a table and pretended to scan the horizon.

"But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?
It is the east, and Juliet is the sun."
(Romeo and Juliet - Shakespeare)

Edmund looked slightly confuzzled. " But I love Mary.....or at least I did, perhaps I love Fanny." He finished brightly.

The Dramatic Personae...otherwise known as Benwick, sighed and got off the table.

"My good fellow, how on earth can you expect to pull a chick if you aren't hip on the lingo of the language of love.........POETRY!"

Benwick sees Edmund's rather confused face once more and sighs. He sees he has quite a long way to go with him.

"Lets see here, okay now you have the Romantic expression down, but you need some Poetry, or some understanding of the classical works, to write good letters. Look at Horace Walpole * .....now THOSE are letters! Do you think he could have written such letters if he didn't have the rudiments of the classics and a large amount of friends in the poetry circle..."

Edmund sits like he has been slapped by a fish. Benwick sighs

"No he wouldn't have. Now Thomas Gray! Now there is a poet. "Ode on the death of a favourite Cat drowned in a tub of Goldfish... What a poem"

Edmund looked even more confused. Benwick collapses into a chair.

"Okay lets take it from the top, Do you know what a poem is???"

Edmund sat up sharply and retorted, "Of course I KNOW what a poem is!"

" And What is the reason behind poetry??"

"Ahhh --- errrrr ----- To be the torture of most English pupils??"

"NO - it's the food of love!!!"

Suddenly a voice wafted through the ventilation unit....

"That's what I thought, until my Elizabeth said "There has been many a one, I fancy, overcome in the same way. I wonder who first discovered the efficacy of poetry in driving away love!"' And then my LOVE *there was a curious groan of female voices, audibly heard here* replied to my saying I felt sonnets as the food of love; "Of a fine, stout, healthy love it may. Every thing nourishes what is strong already. But if it be only a slight, thin sort of inclination, I am convinced that one good sonnet will starve it entirely away. So poetry you see isn't ALWAYS The food of love." **

Benwick, held up one hand in a *please wait one moment* to Edmund, stood up, very calmly took off one boot and walked to the wall where the vents were. With a calm smile at Edmund he turned towards it, back to Edmund and various banging sounds were heard. And a furious whisper of "I work ALONE DORK-BOY"

The Authoress would like to point out that the Persuasion characters *the stupid male one's at least* had declared war upon the less stupid, but still regrettably male so therefore less in control of their faculties then their respective female counterparts, characters in Pride and Prejudice. I repeat they have declared war upon each other. The Authoress doesn't know why, but feels it's a good idea, it will give the men something to do......

He turned back, gave a bright smile and walked back to his seat, replacing his boot.

"Now where were we??"

Edmund gulped looking at the now forcibly closed vents and squeaked "Poetry???!!!???"

"Poetry, now what poetry are you acquainted with?"

"Ummmm well ---er ---- you know -----that man ------ and well ------the other man ----------and that one with the funny --------- um not really any??!!!???"

"POETRY IS IMPORTANT MAN! I mean do you think anyone cares that Lord Byron has a crippled foot?"

"Well it would be a bit - er -"

"Well they DON"T!!!! Why??? Because he is a poet! And Good God man you are in some DESPERATE need of poetry."

Edmund decided to take offense to this. "If you will excuse me! I am KNOWN for my teddy bear like Qualities, ladies Do find me attractive!"

There was an overwhelming Snirt, that just emanated from somewhere...who knows where it came from...........

Benwick covered his eyes...."Girls take Teddy bears to bed."

"Excuse me! Ladies may be reading this! Have some decorum.!" Cried a shocked Edmund.

Benwick finished "But WOMEN dispense with the TEDDY BEARS AND IF THEY Don't HAVE A MAN, THEY READ....QUITE OFTEN POETRY."

Edmund could see that his mentor was about to pop off on an apoplexy so he dropped the point and said quite meekly he could see poetry could be important and if he would just continue he would make no kind of noise whatsoever.

"That's good. Thank you!" replied Benwick, standing up started to recite some verses. "Now repeat after me. "

"A mind not to be chang'd by place or time.
The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven"
(Milton Paradise Lost. Line 253)

Edmund screwed up his face.

"A mine not be to mange my face so fine.
The kind is its foam mace, and in itself
Can take a Molotov bell, and a bell Molotov."

Benwick gave a wheeze and clasped his chest, in expectation that he was about to expire on the spot.

"What did I not do well???" asked Edmund plaintively.

"Hmmm lets see whether it's just Milton....try this...:

Here we may reign secure; and in my choice
To reign is worth ambition, though in hell:
Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven.
(Milton A Paradise Lost, Line 261)

Edmund took a deep breath. Benwick winced....

"Bear ye may rain liquor, and in thy moist
Thai sauce is worth coalition though in well
Batter to cane in hell bent carve Devon."

Benwick's eyes widened to the size of soupbowls and started to cough quite quickly.

"I think we will move on to someone else.....yes someone else How about Walter Scott??"

Like the dew on the mountain,
Like the foam on the river,
Like the bubble on the fountain,
Thou art gone, and forever!
"The Lady of the Lake Canto 2 Stanza 16)

Edmund smiled "You know I have read this!"

"You have???!!!??"

"Yes beautiful poem, now I shall dramatically recite it, if you don't mind."

"Mind??? Dear fellow of course not...continue continue..."

"Like the few on the Count's train
Like the Comb in the liver
Like the trouble on the foot's swain,
Thou can't mourn, hand foot or feather. "

There was a large bulging of eyes. Benwick turned a curious shade of purple, so it was probably very lucky that Lord Ashbourne walked in at that precise moment, in fact he was in time to hear some of the previous exchanges (he had been running; he had to straighten out the cravat)

"How bout some Byron old chap...now let me see.....All for love...

There chiefly I sought thee, there only I found thee;
Her glance was the best of the rays that surround thee;
When it sparkled o'er aught that was bright in my story,
I knew it was love, and I felt it was glory.

Edmund smiled and launched off;

Where beastly I thought thee, There lonely I sound key.
Her stance was the rest of the bays that I mount; wheeee!
Then it rankled o'er port that was quite a vote Tory.
I move it twas god meant ; quite an Allegory.

"Allegory??"

"Yes AL -LA - GORY."

"uh..."

"What it Rhymes!???" said Edmund.

The exchange between Lord Ashbourne and Edmund, meant that both characters did not realise that Benwick had fainted.

"Oh god, you haven't killed Another one have you??" Cried Lord Ashbourne.

There was a muffled sound through the ventilation system, from the men's change room. "Hope you are happy now Trigger Happy!!!"

Edmund turned white.

"I was only reciting Poetry!"

Lord Ashbourne looked, well tried to look, sympathetically down at Edmund.

"I think you should stick to ---- er-----composing poetry....probably for the best!"

Lord Ashbourne called in Bingley and Palmer to see what they could do about the comatose Dramatic Personae.

It turned out that they didn't have to do anything, Benwick jumped up, quite alive...but not quite himself.....

"I'm down, I've got the 411, and you are not going out and getting jiggy with some boy, I don't care how dope his ride is. My mama didn't raise no fool!" Benwick Shouted Enthusiastically. ***

Various eyebrows raised at Benwick.

"That is great JUST Great." Replied Knightley, who had curiously entered the room in the wake of Palmer and Bingley.

"Madness, it is all madness. Bedlam, definitely," he said, using his favourite phrase from Donwell Abbey is Let at Last? by CK. *the humble Author had forgotten about this classic line and I think it fits in Perfectly.*

Knightly rounded upon Edmund. "You have MADE him TURN INTO SOMEONE COMPLETELY DIFFERENT!"

The group of Men had no idea what to do about the crazy antics that Benwick was now engaging in.

"And NOW for something completely different!" shouted Benwick happily.****

"Benwick perhaps a nice cold drink would help?" suggested Bingley, receiving for his pains, some very vicious glares.

"After a lifetime in the Civil Service, an entire career devoted to avoiding questions, you suddenly decide to answer them today and to the Press! You must have flipped your lid Bernard."*****

Bingley looked a bit taken back by this comment. "I'm not Bernard? I'm Charles.....do we even KNOW a Bernard?"

Bingley decided that whatever anyone else thought, Benwick was in extreme need of a glass of water...or a gin and tonic so off he trotted.

Palmer was idly wondering if he could use Benwick as a case subject for the speech he was preparing for the house of Commons about the necessity of mental asylums.

"If you hold back anything, I'll kill ya. If you bend the truth or I think your bending the truth, I'll kill ya. If you forget anything I'll kill ya. In fact, you're gonna have to work very hard to stay alive, Nick. Now do you understand everything I've said? Because if you don't, I'll kill ya " ******

Benwick shouted this very severely at a nearby brick wall, it made up Palmer's mind. Palmer took him by one arm and lead him out of the conference room.

"So....do you think you could come and talk to some nice people about what you are feeling right now Benwick??"

"Play it again Sam." *******

"Well I'm......I actually don't have a first name, okay it can be Sam from now on."

Knightly watched the door closed, swivelled his head towards Edmund, then over to Lord Ashbourne, who was doing sit-ups in the corner, then raised his eyebrows.

"You appear to have had...so far .....5 lessons...out of these five lessons, you managed to a) have our entire party fall into a pool, b) almost brain one of your teachers, c) send another one mad, d) sent Mrs. Dashwood insane with a rolling pin e) Created a fracas in the shower room, due to Darcy having to take a shower f) caused all hell to break loose after several of the young ladies decided to unseemly dance about, looking quite like the....hmmm *he is trying to grasp the concept of Brittany Spears and the Spice Girls* now they are no longer speaking to the authoress *I hope you still are speaking to me* and g) you appear to have started a health craze that is starting to annoy me....ASHBOURNE GET OFF THAT FLOOR."

Edmund started to sniffle. And Sob.

"There, There, at least no one can say you are boring anymore....it's a step in the right direction ....i think." Replied Knightly.

The suave and sophisticated Authoress would like to thank some of her cast :

Then she would like to run away with who has absolutely nothing to do with this story but is *drool* Chesney in MY other Story...a complete dreamboat, if rather boring and uptight at the moment. *blatant Plug*

Huge Snile

She would also like to claim that she created Snirt and Snile...(snile meaning a cross between a smile and something) ...the noble authoress has forgotten EXACTLY What chat decided the two terms were a cross between, if someone will enlighten the authoress she will be ever grateful.

* This man, is crazy, I'm sure he is stalking me, every time I open ANY book on literature, Georgian England, Regency England Etc. he is always there, he is even in Georgette Heyer. A top bloke really.
** Our very own Austen, PandP
*** 10 things I hate about you.
**** Monty Python
***** Yes Prime Minister
****** Lock Stock and Two Smoking Barrels.
******* Not really a line from Casablanca.

Brandon: Undying Devotion to One's True Love ~ By Caroline

Edmund sat in his chair sniffling and thinking about Knightley's words, It's true he thought. I'm not that boring anymore...heaven forbid, I'm actually starting to be thankful that they brought me here... This thought brought a smile to Edmund's face. Perhaps now, Mary will think of me as the exiting, dashing sort of hero instead of the bumbling...dash it all! he suddenly remembered. I'm not supposed to be thinking of Mary at a time like this, am I? Fanny...he thought pleasantly. Fanny - she'll be glad I'm not so wishy-washy anymore! Oh, this is terrible!

"I can't possibly be in love with two women at the same time!" He said this last part out loud without realizing it, and someone heard him.

"No, you cannot. Or perhaps I should say, as a gentleman, you ought not." came a voice from behind Edmund.

"Oh! I say, you gave me such a shock! I must have said the last part out loud without realizing it!"

"And someone heard you...yes, now...hrm" Colonel Brandon cleared his throat. "I am Colonel Christopher Brandon, and for the next two hours you will be instructed, by me, on the tactics of remaining faithful to one's true love, is that understood?"

"Yes, sir!" Edmund saluted in what he thought was a very military manner.

Brandon sighed. "And you can cut the phony military act altogether - you wouldn't survive in the real army 5 minutes,"

"I might!" Edmund retaliated with his newfound assertiveness.

"You can't even decide between two women! How do you expect to ever make any decisions in life?"

"I decided I wanted to be a clergyman, didn't I?" Edmund mumbled, somewhat dejected.

"Ah, yes...well we won't go into that right now, Ahem." Brandon coughed something that sounded suspiciously to Edmund like 'wishy-washy' but he couldn't be quite sure.

"Now!" said Brandon in a very authoritative voice as he put on his spectacles "Get out your notes from the last lecture...hrm, let's see." he said shuffling through some papers on the desk. "You just heard Mr. Benwick lecture on poetry," he rolled his eyes in a very subtle manner, which was just, by the way, exactly like him, and continued getting out al his presentation materials. He took a slide projector out of his briefcase and set it up on the desk. Then he took some rather large posters and a laser pointer out and set them very neatly on the easel. Edmund sat there throughout all this looking very confused. My notes?? What notes? Brandon had just finished getting all is overhead transparencies in order and had just put the first transparency on the projector when he looked up at Edmund. He peered over his glasses,

"Well, what are you waiting for? Get out your notes. We have a lot to cover in a very short period of time and I don't have any time to waste on your dawdling, sir!"

"Eh, excuse me, sir, but I don't have any notes." Edmund said meekly. Brandon dropped the notes he had prepared for his Power Point presentation and nearly pushed his tray of slides right off the table in shock.

"No notes?" he gasped. "How in the world do you expect to pass the final exam without notes to study from??"

"Final exam, sir? Begging your pardon," Edmund felt storm coming on, 'but none of the others said anything about a final exam, sir." Edmund fiddled with his cravat nervously.

"You see!" Brandon slammed his notebook down on the desk and walked around to the other side where Edmund was sitting on a stool. Edmund looked up and for the first time realized how big a room he was in and how small and insignificant he was sitting on his little stool. "You're nervous, your wringing your hands like Mrs. Bennet! You're not supposed to ever do that, and if you'd been paying attention in the previous classes, maybe you might have picked up on that!" Edmund cowered on his stool shivering and shaking.

"Now look what I've done!" Brandon said in a quavering voice. "I've intimidated you, I've lessened your self esteem, made you feel about this tall," he held his fingers inches apart. Then he started to sob. "I always do this! I can never control my overbearing nature!!! I need my security blanket! Where's my therapist???" he wailed.

Just then the door opened and a little man with big glasses and no pants ran in. To be honest, Edmund was a little distracted by the man's red and white heart boxers, but he way too polite to say anything.

"Vat ist it, mein liebchen? Ist your oferbering nature taking contvol agen?" The man said in a heavy German accent.

"Yes, Herr Doctor!" Brandon sobbed

"Now now, pvull yourzelv togezer," Brandon sniffed and nodded. "You muzn't let it contvol you zo, Zeeze sings do appen. Now, rrremember our exzerzises."

"Yes" Bvandon...er, Brandon said calmly breathing deeply.

"Take ze breths in und out, in und out...kalmly, slooooly. Zer! Veelink better now?"

Brandon nodded appily...I mean happily.

"Goot! Zen, I can goo? I vas sortov in ze middle of somsink ven you called..." The doctor shifted his veight...weight from one foot to the other.

"Yes, thank you Herr Doctor."

"Good. Dalink!! Vait vor meeeeee, your littel poopzi is comink!" Und he van out ze door. I give UP!!

Edmund watched this scene with growing confidence. But when Brandon went back to the desk and picked up his notes again, he got a small knot of worry in his stomach.

"Now, where were we? Ah yes, I was just going to call in all of my esteemed colleagues and find out exactly what you have learned during your stay here at Business. Men! FILE AND RANK!!"

Suddenly all the Austen heroes goose-stepped though the double doors. They formed two ranks and Brandon walked up and down looking at them.

"Men, we convened here with a specific purpose. To teach this man to be one of us! To make him worthy of the lovely lady whose hand he seeks, and how have we succeeded? I ask you, how have we fared..." the Colonel probably would have continued in this vein but once again the doors flew open and Colonel Hotpants marched in.

"Drilling the men, eh, Brandon? Good good, well men, what have you to say for yourselves?" he smiled cheekily, knowing full well that he was still covered in Nutella and wearing only a loincloth. Faint giggles were heard from behind the mirror. All the men turned to look at it then shook their heads and believed they were just hearing things - after all, everyone knows mirrors don't giggle. ;)

"Give it a rest, Brandon old chap! Everything will work out just fine, you'll see!" Bingley smiled.

"Yes, and besides, these ridiculous 'file and ranks' are really annoying." grumbled Darcy.

"He's coming along well anyway, I'm sure Fanny will approve of him once..." Ferrars began but was cut off by a chorus of 'shush's. "I mean...whoever he decides he loves the most, Mary or Fanny...not to try to influence you or anything, old chap..." he stuttered to Edmund.

Everyone was so busy paying attention to Ferrars' slip of the tongue (which, by the way almost gave away their entire master plan) that no one noticed that Hotpants had been abducted from the room by a bunch of giggling Dwiggies.

Outside the door, the Dwiggies plotted what to do with their captive.

"All right, now we have him, what do we do with him??" Elli asked.

"What do you mean, 'what do we do with him'? Whatever we want!!!" Coleen grinned. The rest of the Dwiggies giggled and rubbed their hands together. The Colonel laughed nervously and looked around for anything that could help him out of this mess. Lord Ashbourne walked up and saw the predicament his brother was in and went after them to try and help him.

"I say...what is going on here? What are all of you ladies doing to my brother? I say, ladies...?" He wasn't able to finish because the Dwiggies grabbed him too and called to their compatriots.

"Shem!!! We caught him!! Sania, Gabby - we need some help here!!!"

Shemmelle came running around the corner and stopped when she saw her beloved Ash.

"My beautiful Authoress!!!" Ash exclaimed. "My beautiful wonderful perfect all-knowing, compassionate creator!! The only woman I ever think about besides my Kitty!"

Shemmelle blushed prettily and looked at the Dwiggies. "I think I can handle him, ladies." and grinning, she led him away. Ash was so happy, he didn't even hear the screams of his brother as he was attacked by the Dwiggies and taken to the presidential suite for a Jacuzzi.

*back in the lecture hall*

The men had left Brandon to continue his teaching and he was going at it with gusto. Edmund was scribbling furiously at his notepad, trying to keep up with Brandon's lecture and not miss anything. He had been promised at least two pop quizzes and a major paper comparing and contrasting Mary Crawford and Fanny Price as his two choices for prospective brides, citing examples and explanations. At the moment, Brandon had a picture of Mary up on the easel. He was using the laser pointer to draw Edmund's attention to the picture.

"This is Exhibit 1. As you see here, Mary's hair is quite unruly and she is actually perspiring!!" he said with disgust. "True ladies do not perspire excessively! Also, you can see here that she has been riding horses and if you'll come up here for a moment, there is another point which I would like you to notice."

Edmund finished writing hurriedly and ran up to the easel where Brandon was standing.

"Now you'll see that this is a scratch-and-sniff picture. Please, go ahead." Brandon prompted as he daintily placed a clothespin on his nose. Edmund reached out timidly and scratched the picture. Instantly, a vile smell filled the room. Edmund keeled over in disgust.

"Aha! You see - the sbell of horses is dot quite so bleasant, is it??" Brandon observed.

"GAH! Horrors!! Make it stop!!! Please just make it stop!!" Edmund writhed around on the floor.

Brandon picked up the picture with two fingers and threw it into the fire where it exploded.

KABLAM

(Author's Note: Not a very subtle man is he?)

Brandon removed the clothespin from his nose. "Now that that distasteful part of the presentation is over, here is the next picture."

"NO!! No more scratch-and-sniff!! I beg you!!"

"This one will be much more to your liking, I assure you." and he pulled a poster off the easel to reveal picture of Fanny sitting beautifully on a sofa and daintily embroidering a sampler.

Edmund peeked up at the picture from his fetal position on the floor and smiled innocently.

"Now, you will notice that in the fashion of true ladies, Miss Price is wearing the ultimate in high fashion and her embroidery skills are unsurpassed. She also paints tables, covers screens, nets purses, has a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing and modern languages, and she also possesses a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions..." As Brandon rattled off in a very Miss. Bingleyesque way, he noticed that Edmund had raised his hand. "Yes, you have a question?"

"But to all this, shouldn't she add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading?"

"You cut me off, dear boy! I was just getting to that. Yes of course she reads, but nothing so vulgar as Lovers' Vows. As you see in the picture, she has sitting next to her all the classics: Shakespeare, Milton, Byron, and she reads them most dutifully. Now to the scent of a lady..."

Edmund scratched the picture and out came the light, delightful smell of roses in the summertime. Edmund breathed in deeply and a smile came to his lips, this was definitely Fanny. Brandon took the picture and set it aside and was just about to set up the slide show when he was jarred by an ungodly scream. Brandon and Edmund rushed out into the hall where all the Heroes and many of the Dwiggies were gathering.

"Calm down, everyone!" Dave instructed. I'm sure it's just some civil unrest in the streets. Nothing to be alarmed about."

"I'll just poke my head out and see what all the fuss is about, shall I?" Wentworth ventured. He walked over to the door and opened it a crack. Lord Ashbourne followed him. Bloodcurdling screams could be heard form the streets outside.

"Horatio!" Ashbourne exclaimed.

"Horatio!" Wentworth cried out.

"Horatio!" a voice from outside the door answered.

"Horatio!" Wentworth turned to Ashbourne.

"Frederick!" Ashbourne answered, but found it didn't have quite the right ring to it.

Wentworth turned back to the door. "Man! It is good to see you!! How long has it been? How are you faring with good old Pellew (1)? Beating the Frogs, eh!"

"Yes, actually, that's why I'm here...Do you think I could come in?"

"Of course, of course! As a member in good standing of the Business Club and Hotel, why do you even ask?" and Ashbourne let the newcomer in and closed the door, muffling the sounds of the screams a little.

An extremely handsome and dashing young naval officer entered the foyer.

"Horatio!! Fancy seeing you here, old chap!" Darcy exclaimed.

"May I present Lieutenant Horatio Hornblower of the H. M. F. Indefatigable to the present company." Wentworth performed the introduction. After pleasantries were exchanged, Lieutenant Hornblower turned to Wentworth and Ashbourne.

"I've left some of my men out side...could I just...?" and he indicated the door.

"Of course! Let them in by all means - sounds like the Apocalypse out there!" Brandon took the liberty of speaking for the group. "Are you really under Captain Pellew? I served on the Indy as the Captain of the Marines for some time in the West Indies! You'll never find a better Captain than Sir Edward...with the exception of Wentworth here."

"Nonsense, Brandon!" Wentworth pshawed and went with Hornblower to open the door. When they did, several sailors and marines entered and shut the door quickly.

"Mr. 'Ornblower, sir. Beggin' yer pardon, but it's like the bloody judgment day out there, sir!" one of the sailors gasped a sigh of relief.

"I say Hornblower, what is the meaning of this?" the Major (Who looked a bit like Mr. Eliot) huffed.

"Excuse me, milord. May I present Major Edrington to the present company." Hornblower said. "These are some of my men: Styles, Oldroyd, and Matthews."

Gabby came up to the front of the crowd to get a better look at Major Edrington. As soon as he saw her his heart melted. She walked up to him inconspicuously.

"You look awfully familiar. Do you know a Mr. Eliot of Kellynch Hall?"

"How do you know about Mr. Eliot??" Lord Edrington asked, shocked. "No one is supposed to know about him. That is top-secret Marine information, I'll have to take you somewhere more private for questioning."

"I won't tell if you won't." Gabby smiled coquettishly and batted her eyelashes in a most enticing way.

"Yes, well I still want to take you somewhere private..." but he was cut off by Gabby. Needless to say, they weren't seen again for a while. (This is a late Christmas present for you Gabby J )

Back with the rest of the men, everyone wanted to know what was going on outside.

"It's the French! They're attacking Business!!" Hornblower exclaimed.

"Why would they want to attack this place," Edmund asked. "It's very unassuming, and never hurt anybody."

"That's what you think." Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam came from around the corner. Dressed in full military uniform and dashingly ready for battle. He was all cleaned up and he made his fan club weak at the knees to look at him. "This is secretly the home for Military Intelligence and Tactics. How in the world did the French find that out? Hallo, Hornblower, good to see you again." he added when he saw him.

"We don't know. We think there's a mole in here somewhere, someone who's been leaking information to the Frogs about this place. Someone unwanted..." everyone looked at the rogues. "No, no, no - we're in Business!" Hornblower exclaimed exasperatedly. "They aren't who we're looking for, everyone is equal here. Someone really unwanted..."

At that moment Collins toddled around the corner, still a little woozy from having been knocked unconscious so many times. In an instant, all eyes in the room came on him.

"THAT'S HIM!!" Hornblower yelled and they all pounced. In the chaos that ensued, no one really knew whose arm was whose or which leg they should bite, but they did it anyway. The mass of fighting people overtook everything in its path; the helpless tabby cat, the antique rosewood piano, someone got into the Nutella jars, hideously bright orange nail polish, Suzanne Somers, many, many pennant flags with "Dukakis in '88" on them, and a box of spare rubber octopus tentacles all fell pray to the fracas. Eventually someone grabbed a slimy leg and yelled

"I got him!!" Then everyone backed away from Collins. Covered in orange nail polish and rubber octopus tentacles, he was being held by the ear by Edward Ferrars.

EDWARD FERRARS???

Continued in Next Section