Weekend at Vasey's II Chapter 3
Rating: T
A sequel to “Weekend at Vasey’s”
AU ridicfic set after the events of 2x10 “Walkabout”
Credits: I don’t own the rights to Robin Hood BBC.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
[Author’s note: the team of jellyfish dried out and had to be replaced by an adorably cheesy Bavarian count (no relation to Friedrich)]
*ve are now een zee castle*
“Oooooohhhh. Ohhh. Urrrrrgghhh. I’m soooo hungry,” said a handsome, well-coifed young man with chiseled cheekbones. “Please, I - what’s my line again?”
Allan covered his face with his hand and rolled his eyes. “It’s ‘please, please, I need food.’”
“Right.” The ridiculously good-looking youth cleared his throat and began again. “Please, please, I need food,” he stated, his chiseled cheeks never wrinkling.
Allan looked down at his black wooden clipboard, winced, then looked the young fellow in the eyes. “I’m just having a hard time believin’ that you’ve been starvin’ in the dungeon for six months, is all.”
Mr. Handsome, or Jeff, as he was known to his friends, nodded, though his blue eyes did not seem to be registering much. “Uh-huh. But - what’s my motivation?”
Allan’s eyes widened momentarily as he looked back down at his clipboard. “Um, you’re starving, you’re, like, really, really hungry, okay? And you don’t like it one bit.”
“Oh, so I should play it as more of a tragic figure, huh? I get that,” Jeff replied enthusiastically. Just give me a minute to get into character. He walked over into a corner and started shaking his arms, blowing out his cheeks, and generally making a fool of himself in front of a family of crickets, who were not at all impressed.
“NEXT!” shouted Allan unhopefully.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Guy was pacing the floor in Marian’s bedchambers, and the lady herself was hidden behind a screen as she busily changed clothes.
“Yech, not this one!” Marian yelled frustratedly. A few seconds later a sparkly purple jumpsuit landed on Guy’s head.
Guy plucked the scant piece of fabric off himself and set it on a plush stool. “Do you think he’ll believe that Stacy is the Sheriff?”
Marian mumbled as she pulled a tight leather bodice over her head, “Well, that depends. Is Prince John anything like Sir Phillip of Dunghill?”
Guy sneered, remembering his former rival for Marian’s affections. “I’ve yet to meet Prince John, but I’ve heard he’s no fool. He might act like it sometimes, but I’m fairly certain he’d notice if, for example, the dog chewed someone’s leg off at the dinner table and made off with it.”
Marian shouted a curse as she flung her Bo Peep wig onto the bed. “Then we’ll have to make sure Stacey says as little to him as possible. I fear the ‘Evil Villain’ lessons we’ve paid for have had practically no effect on him at all.”
“Ye Olde Learnynge Annex has classes for that, too?”
“Oh, yes, it’s one of their most popular. Aside from “How to Tell a Witch from a Duck 101” and “Faking Your Own Demise,” of course.”
“Did they at least offer a refund?”
“No, they - wait. YES!”
“Well, at least that’s something,” Guy said, picking up a roll of boob tape off the floor.
“No, not the refund. I mean, I filled out a form, but they - erm, that’s not the important thing. I wanted to say, I’ve got an idea!” Marian’s muffled voice was triumphant.
The last time she said that, we wound up burying bits of Vasey in the garden, Guy thought, sitting down on the Bo Peep wig in despair. Then again, we did have lots of sex after, he reminded himself, perking up a bit.
“At least I’ll finally get to meet Prince John in person,” Guy mused. “I hope he’s more impressive than his brother . . .”
“You mean King Richard? When did you meet him?” Marian asked, popping her head out from behind the screen for a moment. Her head, incidentally, was topped by a teacup.
“Uhh . . . in the . . . at a party once. He - just kept going on and on about how many Saracens he’d killed. Quite a bore. You wouldn’t like him.” Guy began to sweat, hoping she wouldn’t notice.
Marian narrowed her eyes suspiciously before withdrawing behind the screen. “Where was this party? And when?”
“Oh, just . . .” Guy gulped.
Mercifully, he was interrupted by pounding at the door.
“What is it?’ Guy barked out. Whichever inept guard it was interrupting now, he was getting a raise.
“Sir? I’ve got someone here wants to see you.”
Guy rolled his eyes. He spoke slowly, going to the door. “Is it . . . Prince John?”
“N-no, I . . . it’s your mother.”
Guy swung the door open forcefully now. “My mother is dead, you idiot!” he snarled.
“I do believe he meant to say your sister,” said a dark-haired woman with big eyes and a luxurious purple velvet dress that actually looked like something a medieval woman might have worn.
Guy would probably have been less surprised if it had actually been his mother standing there.
Before he could react, Marian came out from behind the screen. She was wearing a dress made of net that was accentuated with tiny lobsters. The two women sized up each other and their respective choices of attire.
“Guy, you never told me you had a sister.”
“Marian, Isabella. Isabella, Marian.”
Isabella smiled with her lips, but Marian could feel her eyes mocking the tiny lobsters. “Charmed.”
“I was just going to change, do excuse me a moment.” Marian stepped back behind the curtain and began fumbling at the net.
“Well, aren’t you going to show me around the place, dear brother?” Isabella said as she took the helpless Guy by the arm.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
*und now ve are een zee keetchen!*
“And if you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?” Marvin asked, his eyebrow raised to the point of pain. He thought about what his mother used to stay about how his face might stay that way forever, and tried in vain to lower the eyebrow.
The young blonde woman across the table from him replied, “Well, I suppose if I had to change something, it would be the fact that I’m just too brave and intelligent for my own good sometimes.”
Marvin sighed and jotted down the answer without comment. “And what would you say is your best attribute?”
“Oh, my imagination!” the young maid answered readily. “It’s my best weapon.”
“Erm, can you elaborate on that a bit?” Marvin asked, massaging his eyebrow. “Or give an example?”
She looked at him quizzically. “Isn’t this the part where you fall in love with me and tell me I’m wonderful?” she asked.
“Sorry?” Marvin replied, now completely confused and a vaguely annoyed. Honestly, who braids just their bangs?
Kate said nothing, but looked at him expectantly.
Marvin sighed. “Alright, just one more question. How do you feel about Sir Guy of Gisbourne, and would you like to sexually harass or assault him in any way?”
Kate scoffed. “Hardly! Not when Robin Hood’s totally my boyfriend.”
Marvin’s eyebrow began to relax. “Then . . . you promise if you get the job you won’t try to have your way with Sir Guy?”
“Ha!” Kate snorted.
“Then you’re hired,” Marvin said hurriedly. “You can start right away.”
“What was the job again?”
Marvin’s eyebrow twitched. “Kitchen maid.”
“Oh, well, I’ve never cooked before, but I’m sure I’ll be spectacular at it.”
“Fantastic.” Marvin had already begun to walk out of the room.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Prince John was not amused. His guards and his driver were still unconscious, and Sir Phillip was more concerned about his stomach than about getting the hell out of the forest. It seemed he would have to take matters into his own hands.
The bandits had run off, taking a hefty bag of gold with them. Fortunately, Prince John always kept a bag of fool’s gold on hand for just such a contingency. When the contents were emptied out, this would cause a tiny sachet to break open, releasing a cloud of vile stench that would mark the thieves for days.
And the world was full of fools.
Prince John nudged his driver off onto the ground. He fastidiously brushed off the seat with a silk kerchief, placed the King Richard Seat Cushion on the it, and finally sat down on it, taking care not to wrinkle his royal traveling attire.
“How much farther is it?” Sir Phillip asked, holding his stomach. “It’s nearly time for my afternoon Brie!”
Lactica hopped onto the seat next to Prince John and nuzzled his sleeve.
Prince John looked down at her disapprovingly as he took the reins.