Posted on Thursday, 18 June 1998

Author's Note: This was long time coming. I've started it, dumped it, started it, burned it, started it then took it out to the backyard and shot it to put myself out of misery. Thanks to everyone in CHAT for encouraging me and needling me to finish this! The whole story reads and follows Monty Python's singular method of expression. So if you folks don't know what MP is like, take some drugs and a swig of paint thinner. You'll join us MP nuts without a problem after that - however the local ER unit will be totally ticked off at me if they don't have a stomach pump handy...

"The Very Poorly Written and Totally Unillustrated Deathmatch"

A thundering Monty...(Montbatten that is) voice blares over the front entrance of Donwell Abbey.

"We are here to witness a great struggle of man! Two factions will clash in 10 minutes to decide which man is the greater, better and kinder gentleman in Austen's world! In one side we have George Knightley, a man of great reputation and good will. The other we have the lord of lords, Fwood, known as Fitzwilliam Darcy for those of us who can read abbreviations! Who will be the triumphant man that will take the laurels of The Gentleman!" As each name were mentioned half of the seated spectators cheered. But there was one section that was glum as Jimmy's checking account - and they were totally composed of the villains that appeared in the last Deathmatch by CK. However their combined I.Q. was falsely reported last time as 115. It is actually 15 which means that they are all clinically dead so let's ignore them.

Darcys and Knightleys sat opposite each other on the chosen battlefield. Darcy's pennant was that of his beloved home Pemberley etched on a white background. Knightley's was that of Box Hill on a red background. Emma didn't have enough time to come up with a good emblem so that stupid hill had to do. (She was actually very allergic to strawberries.)

Suddenly Brian de Bois-Guilbert came charging out of nowhere. "Where are the Saxons?!" He snarled ferociously.

"Pssst...Brian, Brian..." hissed Mr. Weston. The Crusader turned to him. "Wrong author, actually wrong timeline. This is Jane Austen's Deathmatch sponsored by MTV and Miller Light."

The man looked totally blank for a second then whispered, "Damn they really are targeting younger audiences aren't they?" Mr. Weston gave a sympathetic nod and the dark knight charged away to find Ivanhoe.

The voice continued after the rude and dangerous interruption rode out of sight. "The Abbey is defended heroically by the town of Highbury whose very fortune depends on the landed gentry the Knightleys!" A very loud cheer came up from behind the walls and Mr. Knightley had to blush. Emma smiled brilliantly and even gave a very gracious curtsey.

Meanwhile 25 miles away a very frightening crowd appeared. Led by Mrs. Reynolds (who looked dazzling in the latest Betsy Johnson creation) the Pemberley staff was looking for blood. Actually they were looking for food because nobody thought to pack for such a long trek. They gobbled every sheep that Gabriel Oak had and were like the locusts with Brandon's wheat. But they were soon hungry again and suddenly they saw a barouche.

They ate Caroline and there was much rejoicing.

After a mile from the picnic site they came to cross a bridge when *BAM* the Mage of Maybury Bridge appeared. "No one can cross this bridge without answering the following three questions!!" He roared and the staff cowed in fear. Suddenly Indiana Jones chased by the SS blew through the throng saw the Mage, shot him and kept going. The staff went on their knees to thank the good L-rd and continued their quest.

Jeremiah whose language was indeed base said "When I get to Don Juan Abbey I'll get my hands on those idiots' necks and *bleep* punch the living daylights out of them 'til they beg for mercy!"

"*bleep* right we will!" roared the houseboys, "and we will *bleep* the *bleep* and *bleep*..."

{The conversation is interrupted by a sound of static and suddenly some dark forces have joined in on this author's attempt to post this story on BoI}

"Is this where the criminal Jimmy resides?"

"No, this is where Dr. Jimmy Lecter resides. Who the *bleep* hell are you?"

"We are the Syndicate and we are here to warn you that we have copyrighted the term *bleep*. Thus it is ours by the right given in Federal and state codes."

"You've got to be *bleep* kidding me. You cannot copyright that. it's not even a real word or a term defined in the English language proper!"

"Neither is the gene sequence for man's DNA but we have that too! Nah Nah Nah Nah Nah"

"*bleep" idiots. I can't *bleep* believe this...wait a minute, are you those *bleep* jerks that made my friends take off their X-File site?"

"Yes Oh Rude One."

"Does CC know you did that?"

"OF COURSE NOT You NINNY! What do you think? We're the SYNDICATE which means we're the bad guys!"

"Yeah, and all you *bleep* *bleep* are affirmative action-challenged. I don't care I am gonna use *bleep*. See? *Bleep*. *Bleep* and guess what? *BLEEPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP*"

"We'll sue your non-existent butt off."

"Yeah, right like I would like to see you actually serve me via Internet!"

"We can close down your Internet account."

"Oh, just do that and I'll spam everyone in RoP about the shippy scene in the X-Files Movie!"

"You're lying, the movie doesn't open until tomorrow!"

"Well, *bleep* you. I got a pass and saw it last night!"

"Not possible, your name is on our red list. Every theater knows you are to be turned out the door! And even if you did sneak in you signed the contract binding you to not discuss the movie until tomorrow at 12 noon."

"You *bleep* idiots, I signed Jimmy and that ain't my real name."

Silence.

More silence.

"You may use *bleep*"

{The sound of static disappears and all is well in BoI, or as well as it could be with Jimmy hanging around.}

"*BBBBBBBBBBBBLLLLLLLLLLLLLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPPPPPPPPPPPP*"

Monty comes back on after a well-deserved bathroom break.

"And the staff ferociously marched ever forward to prove their gentleman to be the best! Then suddenly..."

Mrs. Reynolds spied a city not far away. "What's that?" The good woman asked. Joseph, the senior butler replied, "Oh that's London."

Scene breaks into the club where Men go when they have Business. (No, this does not mean potties folks.)

We're the Men of Austen.
We dance the Charleston.
We do routines and dueling sketches
With footwork that actually matches.
We dine well here in London.
We eat lamb and mutton.

[dancing]

We're the Men of Austen.
Our voices are formidable,
But that's because we all went to RADA
and learned nada.
We're Shakespeared to our gullets
and wanna flush Cowper down the toilets..."

Joseph thought for a moment, "Let's not go there. London's a very silly place." The staff agreed in unison and kept up their lively pace to Donwell Abbey.

Suddenly a group of angry villagers were marching down another path quite close to this irate staff and they were dragging a woman with them. The Pemberley staff gasped and quaked in recognition. It was Lady Catherine! Or a close facsimile of...actually not even that.

"A Lady Catherine! A Lady Catherine! We found Lady Catherine! Burn her! Burn her!" The new throng cried out in fear and exhilaration.

"They got that right!" Agreed Thomas who suffered cruelly under that woman's constant tongue-lashing.

Mrs. Reynolds (who was now sporting the latest ash-green tank dress from DKNY) sagely said, "How do you know she's Lady Catherine?"

"We'll she looks like her!" Cried a enraged Villager.

"Bring her forth," ordered Mrs. Reynolds.

The tied up, gagged-up woman was shoved forth and Mrs. Reynolds peered closely. Then she ungagged the disheveled lady.

"I'm not Lady Catherine!" The woman cried out in alarm.

"Yes, she is!" Chorused the villagers.

"How do you know she is Lady Catherine?"

"Well, she looks like one."

"That's because you dressed me up like her!"

"No, we didn't"

"Never!"

"You are all liars!"

"No she's lyin'!!"

"You can't trust a Lady Catherine!!"

"Maybe, just a little bit..."

"The nose and the shoes."

"The dress and the hair too..."

The villagers all lost their zeal by this time and Mrs. Reynolds asked the woman, "Who might you be?"

The woman proudly declared, "Fanny Dashwood."

The staff and the villagers looked at each other.

"Burning's too good for the witch!!! Throw her to the Rabbit with the Razor Sharp Teeth!!!" They trundled her up again and immediately set out for the cave where this ferocious rodent lies. They tossed her and saw the thing feed in great delight.

*WHAM* - (the sound of 1000lbs. steel weight dropping on Jimmy's head)

Carolyn gives a great sigh and turned to Myretta and Amy. "See what I have to put up with? The *bleep* idiot never shuts up!"

THE END.

Thanks to all the Deathmatch writers for such great inspiration. And to Katt and Meesh for their hysterical "Business in London" saga my hats off to you.(Fwood anyone?) Of course a deep bow to those randy,rowdy and one very dead MP performers who basically changed the face of comedy.