Beginning, Previous Section, Section III
Jump to new as of January 16, 2001
Jump to new as of June 8, 2001
Jump to new as of February 26, 2002
"How dare you wreck the quiet solitude that is Business by allowing the French rabble to attack??" he yelled. "How do you have the decency to walk around on the streets of London knowing that you have potentially destroyed one of its most valuable resources? How can you call yourself an Englishman???" he bellowed. He walked over to an aquarium and dropped him in. Cinderella's Fairy Godmother appeared, said 'Bibbity bobbity boo,' and left. Collins was turned into a toad...what am I SAYING??? He already was a toad, but now he was small and green too. Edward closed the lid of the aquarium and dusted off his hands.
"HOORAH!! HOORAH!!"
Cheers erupted from the masses and the loudest of them all was Charlotte. She was whooping and giving everyone high-fives and doing some sort of tribal dance.
"In celebration of the vanquishment of Collins the TOAD, we will have a celebration consisting of Tabbi, clad only in bubble wrap, performing her famous lawn chair-handcuff dance to the sounds of iced tea being stirred. Also, Shemmelle will sing Native American tribal chants backwards through her recorder, while accompanying herself on the electric cello, which she has never studied. And for a finale, Kathy will model the latest fall fashions from Paris while accompanying herself on the 10 gallon plastic pickle tub(2)" More cheers.
As morale was suddenly boosted, everyone failed to notice that a battering ram was presently being used to break down the front doors. Finally the loud noise attracted the keen hearing of the military men.
"Man your battle stations!" the various officers yelled. "Prepare for attack!"
The Dwiggies ran to the artillery closet and started passing around Post-it notes, thumbtacks, erasers, staples, hole punches (single and three-hole) fax paper, paper clips, pens and pencils. When the wall came down, they would be ready. Finally, the door did cave in, but all that stood there were three dilapidated soldiers.
"You? You were the ones making all that noise, creating all that destruction, and wreaking all that havoc??" Wentworth asked, incredulously.
"Zee streetz of London ave zee very good acoustics, no?" one of the soldiers answered.
"What do you want? We won't tell you anything!" Brandon said firmly.
"Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, His Majesty's Army Fourth Battalion, Serial number 24601" Fitzwilliam spouted as if from a textbook.
"24601...did zomeone zay 24601??" Inspector Javert poked his head around the corner.
"Yes...that's my serial number..."Colonel Fitzwilliam looked confused.
"At last I've found you, Jean Valjean!" Javert looked sickeningly pleased. "You are under zee arrest."
" 'Old on, just a moment - vat did you zay?"
"Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, His Majesty's Army Fourth Battalion, Serial number 24601"
"Vat is zat?"
"According to the Geneva conference, that's all I'm required to tell you."
"Psst, Hotpants?" someone from the crowd whispered.
"Yesss," he whispered back, embarrassed to be addressed as 'Hotpants' while in full dress uniform and while trying to impress enemy officers. "What isss it?"
"The Geneva conference hasn't happened yet - you don't need to give your serial number."
"Oh...well then, forget the serial number." he told the Frenchmen.
"So...you are not 24601?"
"No." The colonel answered assertively.
"Damn!" and Javert left(3).
While all this was happening, Hornblower and Brandon were actively trying to dissuade the Frenchmen from attacking.
"You see, it would be quite futile. You are only three and here we have Two Colonels, one Major, one Lieutenant, several sailors and a whole battalion of marines - you'd never make it. Why don't you just go home?" Hornblower reasoned.
"No." said a Frenchman
"Not to mention a whole bunch of civilian men...Horatio, you haven't even seen the women - you can't imagine what they're capable of. One of them is worth the lot of us put together. You'd better just give up."
"Not on your life" another yelled.
"I say, it wouldn't be quite fair of us to fight you, better luck next time, eh chaps?" Brandon continued.
"I don't vant to talk to you no more, you empty headed animel food troff viper! I fart in your gheneral derecshon! Your mozer was a hamsterr and your fahzer smelt of elderrberries!(4)" the first one spat on the ground next to Brandon's boot.
"Right...well, don't say we didn't warn you." Horatio bulled a fuming Brandon away How dare he fart in my general direction!!
"You don't fraghten us, Englush pig dogs! Go and boil your bottoms, you zons of a zilly pehrson! I blo my noze at you.(5)"
"All right ladies...let them have it!" Brandon ordered. And much silliness ensued.
(Author's Note: Now, you may be wondering what has happened to our dear Edmund during all this chaos...well frankly so am I. I just got into a furious rush of ideas and sort of forgot to add the main character...Am I alone here or does anyone else have this problem, maybe we should start a support group or something...
Anyway here he is, as promised - Edmund "Wishy-washy" Bertram.
"I am not wishy-washy!"
I am the Authoress and I say you still haven't gotten over your wishy-washyness quite yet. Besides, there are still a lot of chapters left to go and if you got over being wishy-washy at the beginning of the story then all the other Authoresses would have to write a story about...well, nothing, in fact - and that would make them very upset at me. So as the omniscient, omnipresent, omnipotent Authoress that I am, I hereby pronounce you: still wishy-washy!)
The fight was pretty nondescript, so I'll just give you the Reader's Digest version.
Caroline (BINGLEY - not me!) got an eraser stuck up her nose and discovered that she really liked the effect of orange nail polish on a red dress.
Gabby dressed Lord Edrington in a dress because she liked a man who could make her laugh (and believe me, was she ever laughing at this...guffawing is more like it), and he was so whipped that he did pretty much anything she asked.
Tabbi, Coleen and the rest of Col Hotpant's chasers managed to recover from their uniform-induced stupor enough to carry him off and continue covering him with Nutella and then licking it off.
Darcy managed to have a bucket of water thrown on him, much to the delight of all the wet-Darcy fans.
"Why do I bother to dry off?" We don't know, Darcy. We just don't know.
Kimmie was surrounded by her 43 husbands and found herself unable to have just one (kinda like Lays Potato Chips, I guess)
The three French soldiers were banished to one of Diamond Darcy's romance novels - as French poodles!
Edmund ran back to the lecture hall to study for the final exam - results to be disclosed at the end of the class. He spent the time of the fight studying the picture of Fanny and the ashes that remained of Mary's picture - full of indecision.
Brandon performed beautifully in the battle, and still remained faithful to Marianne (how does he do it?)
Ferrars kept a strict lookout at the aquarium to make sure that Collins didn't escape, but his attention was distracted for an instant. That was all it took - Collins escaped and Ferrars has been searching for him ever since.
"Incidentally - if you see him, will you let me know?" Sure thing, Ed.
But most importantly, The Authoress found love. Actually - this is so important that I'll tell you all exactly how it happened.
Hornblower was fighting valiantly (as he always does, but I digress) when he looked up and saw the most beautiful vision his mortal eyes had ever beheld. Caroline (not that Bingley chica - the gorgeous one!) was standing on a chair hitting one of the French soldiers on the head with a candlestick. She was wearing her prom dress (blatant excuse to describe my prom dress to all of you unsuspecting readers...muahahaha!!). Black empire-waisted satin, thin shoulder straps, straight skirt, black gauze overskirt, with black beads in a small floral design (it is exquisite! If I do say so myself - I thought the beads would be too much, but there aren't that many of them J ). Well, back to the story, Horatio was completely overcome. He walked right over to her and helped her down off the chair.
"M'lady - may I be of assistance?"
"Oh, what a gentleman!" and he kissed her hand. Of course, she looked perfect, not a hair out of place, not a blemish on her skin, makeup done perfectly, nails manicured...(stop me when this sounds like a fantasy...). He kissed her hand and completely swept her off her feet. And they lived happily ever after on the high seas - occasionally stopping by Business to catch up on old friends.
(Author's Note: Though in real life, I share my wonderfully perfect man with Shem...this is my fantasy - so he's all mine...yay!!!)
Water Polo at the Roxy
While our beloved heroes and Dwiggies were just settling down for a good supper, courtesy of Tamsin, Ash, and Elli, upstairs in a hidden room sat four confederates....
"Where IS he?" Erin paced and looked at her watch. "He should have been here by now. Shem didn't he say he would be here by 6:30?"
"He did. Relax, I'm certain everything is fine."
Someone knocked as she said this. "SEE. It's him." Shem opened the door a crack, "The peacock flies at midnight." she whispered.
Sigh "And the dog eats Botswana. Really Shem, is all this cloak and dagger sneaking around necessary?" Ash asked.
"Just get in here." Shem pulled him inside. "You know everyone else... Erin, Anatole, Miiiiiiiiiillllllllllles." Shem indicated each team member.
"Must you say it like that" Miles demanded.
Shem pinched his cheek and smiled, "Yes Miiiiiiillllllles." She then turned back to Ash. "Is everything ready? Did you get the keys?"
"Of course. Have I ever failed you my dear?" Ash flicked her nose with his finger.
"No Ash." Shem looked like she was about to gush, which irritated Miles and made Anatole and Erin gag.
"Did you have any problems?" Erin asked, attempting to distract Shem and Ash.
"No, Elli was so tired after all that dancing that she's sound asleep. Here." Ash tossed Elli's keys to Miles. "I need to get back before I'm missed."
"One more thing.... are the 'costumes' taken care of?"
Ash hesitated, shifting from foot to foot, "Well, it's done but I needed some help.... so... Tabbi knows."
There was a collective groan from everyone. "It's fine... she's eager to help the men change."
"I'll bet." Muttered Miles.
"Fine... Anatole & Erin you're on getting the audience in place and worked up. Ash, You keep an eye on Tabbi and make CERTAIN everyone is dressed and ready. Miiiiiiiillllllless, you're with me." Shem winked flirtatiously at him. "Okay, places everyone. One hour until show time."
One Hour Later
In the Roxy Pool of the Business Hotel
The stands were packed thanks to Erin and Anatole encouraging the Bingley/Bridget Choir to stay. Conspicuously absent from the seats were the Austen Heroes and Rakes.
The room quieted as Tabbi opened the dressing room doors and ushered the men out. They were wearing the most astonishing neon orange and pink wetsuits, which while covering much skin were enticingly form-fitting. (Save for Colonel Fitzhottie, who for obvious reasons was still attired in a loincloth) Erin quickly began passing out towels to the crowd in order to control the drool running down the steps and making the deck area extremely slippery.
The men cloistered together, some because they were embarrassed by the close fitting garments, and others because they needed to adjust.
"Where are the horses?" Edmund tried to whisper, but failed as the rubber of his suit got caught on his two chest hairs. He squeaked.
Ash (being closest to Ed and blaming him for this state of deterioration of dignity he was being subjected to) slapped him in the back of the head. "You idiot... This is WATER polo. No horses."
"But I want horsies. I like horsies. Can we go ride some horsies, please, please, please!"
Knightly looked disdainfully at Ed. "Edmund, whining is NOT heroic behaviour. It isn't even manly behaviour."
"I wasn't whining, I was begging."
"Oh," Darcy piped up. "That's different. We all have to beg occasionally. Good show Eddie."
"What do you mean we all have to beg occasionally? That's just nonsense! MEN DO NOT BEG." announced Henry Crawford.
"Indeed, I never beg!" Mr. Elliot stated, firmly convinced of his own superiority, even if the wet suit DID chaff.
*SNORT* "That's because YOU aren't married."
All heads looked at Bingley. Bingley making a snort? This thought occupied them until Colonel Richard Alexander James Edward Studmuffin Hotloins Fitzwilliam was heard muttering....
"It's a plot. I know it. It's all a plot. Just a plot. I knew it. I just knew that this would happen. They're plotting against me, everywhere. I can't escape. Plots, and more plots. Can't escape. Trapped. I'm trapped. Oh no! Everywhere, trapped, plots...."
"He's cracking," Darcy whispered.
"What'll we do?"
Kimmie patted the Colonel's back soothingly, "It's all right. I'll take care of you"
Tabbi pushed Kimmie into the pool, "You've got fifty-three husbands already. I WANT the Studmuffin!"
Colonel Fitzhottie paled as Tabbi patted him soothingly.
"No, no, no." Everyone turned to watch a small dark hair lady take hold of the Colonel. "It's my job to take care of him now."
"Back off Julie," growled Tabbi.
"Hey! It's after 10:00. It's my turn to be the token adult. I'll nurse the Colonel back to health." With that she bustled about feeding him cookies and ice cream until a sense of equilibrium was restored and Tabbi was forced to find other amusements, for the time being.
Meanwhile......
Shem and Miles, using Elli's stolen keys, unlocked the main control room and began to play.......
The underwater pool lights came on painting the water lovely shades of pink and blue which clashed sadly with the neon orange and pink wetsuits.
The house lights dimmed and a series of floodlights began to sweep the pool....
Over the intercom....
AND NOW
FOR YOUR DROOLING PLEASURE
THE HEROS AND RAKES
OF JANE AUSTEN
PRESENT
WATER POLO 2001!
The crowd went wild, led by Anatole and Erin, into a frenzy of cheering and chanting...
A sign appeared on the wall:
MACH 5
Maniacal Artists Creating Havoc
A disco ball descended from the ceiling and sprayed the pool with dancing lights.
The men stood looking disturbed.
"What's going on?" demanded Darcy.
"Looks like WE are the entertainment." muttered Brandon.
"How clever of you to guess that. Cambridge or Oxford education?" Darcy sniped.
*snirt* - everyone stared at Edward Ferrars. "W...Wh....What?"
"Snirt?" asked Wentworth.
"That's a girl thing." Edmund hissed. "Even I know that."
The men fell silent until cheers erupted from Bingley. Edmund was congratulated on his first independent male reaction. (The other being unmentionable) (and still in doubt).
"Very nice but can you belch the alphabet?" Knightly asked sarcastically, as he twisted and turned to give Sania and the other fans a full view of his adorable and muscular tush.
"Well, can you?"
"Yes, but I find it wholly unnecessary. A GENTLEMAN refrains form obvious coarse behaviour." Knightly sniffed and flexed. The crowd cheered.
A spotlight rested on the men, "BOYS! - that's enough. I think you all need to cool off." Shem announced. "Ash - if you please."
"No."
"What?"
"I said 'NO'."
"What the heck is your problem Horatio?" Shem seethed.
Ash cringed at the use of his Christian name but plodded on, convinced of the justice of his stand:
"I won't be a party to this. It's time all men took up their......." Ash looked dismayed at the attire of his fellow heroes. "It's time we stood up for........" Nope. That wouldn't work either. It was too cold in here.
"I say we push the girls in!" cried William Elliot.
Hotloins elbowed his solar plexus, "Oops."
"Oh thank you Colonel, Oh My Colonel." gushed Tabbi.
Coleen took her drink away from her. "You're gushing. You've had enough."
"Oooooo I could never get enough." She waggled her eyebrows suggestively at the Colonel.
"Help!" whimpered Colonel Fitz. He was trapped. On his left Ash was making a speech about the equality of heroes and the injustice of trussing them up like Ken Dolls. To his right were Tabbi and Col. Julie, having noticed that Darcy was unoccupied, was no where to be seen. The Colonel knew there was only one way out........ the pool.
SPLASH!
The room grew silent as a small scrap of cloth floated to the surface.
He's NAKED!" General consensus is that it was Eagle-eyed Col who made the proclamation. Regardless of the source it sparked a series of events which shall hereafter forever be known through the halls of dwiggiedom as "THE DAY THE WORLD SHUDDERED."
Fearing for their comrade and friend, not to mention themselves should it be known that Austen Heroes can become naked when exposed to water, the Austen men bravely faced the crowds and jumped in to rescue of the Colonel. All except Wentworth who resolutely stood on the sidelines.
"I don't know how to swim!" He cried.
"Weenie." Muttered Lt. Hornblower and shoved him in, fortunately it was the shallow end.
The room grew quiet. Very quiet. Every Dwiggies (every female, the few men having fled surreptitiously but rapidly out of the room) in the room stood in mute wonder at the sight of ALL the Austen men wet. Very Wet.
The audience uttered one collective *siiiigggggghhhhhh* and fainted.
The men looked around bewildered before Henry Tilney spoke up,
"I suggest that this is an optimal time for us to leave. Quickly."
Next up........
Tilney -- The Art of Witty Conversation
Ferrars -- The Idiot's Guide to Procuring a Beautiful Wife (hey if I can do it anyone Can!)
Musgrove -- Real Men Hunt!
Posted on Monday, 25 February 2002
Author's Note ~ A long, long time ago...... I can still remember when....... many dwiggies decided that Edmund was a wuss and needed to learn to be a proper Austen Hero. Thus under great duress, the best, brightest, and then some of our dear Jane's heroes were brought together for a three day seminar to teach Edmund the important points about being A HERO......... Day one is over, day two has yet to start (and apprently needs a good swift kick) Thus I give you:
It was quiet in the hotel bar. Darcy wondered why he was the only one up at this hour, the others retired for the night. He briefly thought of running, getting out of this insane scheme as leaving the others to deal with this folly, but he was stopped short by two things: his innate desire to do what was right and necessary; and a very morose looking Henry Tilney sitting in the darkened corner.
He made no real effort to conceal his presence, yet Tilney remained oblivious until Darcy was almost on top of him.
"Darcy. Go away."
"Tilney. Couldn't sleep either?"
"Too dang worried about this lecture I'm suppose to give tomorrow. I can barely remember what it's supposed to be about."
"You'll be fine. Out of all of us you're the most..... balanced."
Tilney snorted into the foul looking stuff he was drinking, "Balanced? Nice compliment, Darcy. Next time do me a favor and don't."
"Fine I won't try to help you. I should have just stuck with my original idea and left."
"Whadda ya mean left?"
Darcy looked puzzled, "Why are you speaking with an American accent? And a very bad one at that?"
Tilney sighed, "You have no sense of humour."
Before Darcy could properly answer Tilney with a scathing and well-placed set down the door burst open. Fearing that it was the Dwiggies come to harass them both men dove for cover under a nearby table. The table providing little in the way of a hiding place as it had no cloth covering it and sported a very trendy glass top.
Fortunately for the heros it was not the dreaded Dwiggies come to call, just more heros trying to make sense of their impossible mission.
"I'm telling you this is a hopeless cause. We are wasting time trying to teach that buffoon anything." Wentworth was shouting. Probably trying to cover up the fact that he was once again dressed in his mommy costume. Darcy made a mental note to suggest therapy after this was over. Or another sea voyage.
Brandon did little to argue with Wentworth... but that was only prudence. Few men have the cojones to argue with a 6'3" sailor dressed in women's clothing and carrying a sword.
Collins, on the other hand, had no such...... restrictions and whined as spiritedly as he could: "But sir.... It's our duty to help those less fortunate and in need."
Wentworth's sword gleamed.
"Frederick!" Tilney shouted as he crawled out from under the table. "You cannot skewer him."
"Yes I can."
"No you can't."
"Yes I can."
"No you can't"
Wentworth's eyes gleamed. "Fine, what if I skewer you instead."
To everyone's surprise Tilney laughed, "Then you'd have to teach my class tomorrow. Somehow I doubt you're up for witty conversation."
Wentworth growled, but quietly admitted he really didn't want to talk about talking.
"I'd do it."
The group spun around to find Bingley bounding up. "I'd love to teach conversation. Ooooo look 'Goldenball!'(It's a GOLF game.... return your minds to their proper and upright position) Anyone fancy a game? I say isn't this the best time we've had in ages? I mean free food, swimming pool, Jacuzzi...."
"DO NOT mention that word so loudly!" Colonel Fitzhottie/loins/pie/william hissed as he clapped a hand over Bing's mouth. There was a decidedly frantic look to him, not to mention the water puddling around his feet.
"What happened to you?" Darcy demanded.
"I was pushed.... into the Jacuzzi."
"Do we dare ask by whom?"
"No confound it! I didn't see them. I just heard a lot of giggling and then sploosh! I was wet."
Wentworth began to chuckle. And point. "What are you wearing?"
"I was in my loincloth. Thank you very much!" Col. F huffed.
"Well it's not a loincloth now. It shrunk. I'd say you're wearing a............. buttflap."
*snicker*
Darcy tried vainly to break up the fight that ensued. It was Brandon who finally got their attention by pinching Collins. The squeal Collins emitted shattered several glasses but stopped the fight.
"Thank you." Brandon glanced around the room and shut the door. "Now that I have your attention..... And we're alone.... It seems to me that the only way out of this mess is to either finish the classes and in two more days we are free.... OR to make sure these classes don't happen at all."
"But how can we do that?" asked an innocent and naive Bingley.
"If we keep Henry from teaching they'll have to give up." Brandon's statement made as much sense as any would at 3 in the morning to a group of tired and damp, slightly drunk heros.
"But won't they still have all of you?" Collins squeaked.
"Good point." Brandon surveyed to room and grinned. "Gentlemen you are my prisoners now. Except you two: Bingley and Collins. You go find Tabbi and give her our demands."
Darcy looked as if he were about to protest, until Frederick bent over, at the waist, still dressed as 'mommy'. Darcy decided that maybe Brandon's idea would at least get Frederick some help.
Hence a rather glee-filled Bingley and Collins (who was ale filled as well as glee-filled, and punch-drunk at the thought of seeing his beloved Tabbi again) rapped smartly on the hotel room door, only to discover that to their dismay the room did not belong to beloved Tabbi, but Ash.
Thirty minutes later a more sober and soaking wet Bingley and Collins (having fished themselves out of the reflecting pond twice) stood dripping and shivering outside Tabbi's room.
Okay Tabbi... go rescue the boys :)