Fic: Paddywhack and the Prince PG14 - AU RPS - J2 Crack!fic
Title: Paddywhack and the Prince
Author:
Characters: J2 and the usual suspects*
Rating: PG-14 for suggestive language and presence of Chad Michael Murray
Summary: A prince decides to take a suitor - one who has an answer for everything (I basically took Hans Christians story ‘Hans Clodhopper’ and changed the names.) Crack!fic
Disclaimer: Not real. Not for profit. Any similiarities to persons and situations, real and imaginary, are purely coincidental.
*Cast of Characters:
Paddywhack - Jared Padalecki Prince - Jensen Ackles
Squire/Father - Michael Rosenbaum Son/Brother - Tom Welling
Son/Brother - CMM Talkative Suitor in the line - Christian Kane
City Councilman - Eric Kripke
Once upon a time, there was a prince named Jensen Ackles, who announced far and wide that he wished to marry.
“Only the clever need apply,” read the announcement, because the Prince was tired of dating vacuous airheads. While they were very pleasant to look at, he was sick of courting bleach-headed blondes who had breasts larger than their brains. He made it clear to his court that he would marry none but the one who had an answer to everything.
Out in the country, in an old manor house, lived old Squire Rosenbaum with his three sons. After receiving word of the Prince’s search, he called two of his sons to his study. Tom and Chad were both clever, and extremely handsome. Rosenbaum had noted that the announcement did not specify specifically that the Prince was searching for a bride. Being a rather sneaky fellow, and knowing how much the upper-class appreciated beautiful things, he figured it was worth a shot to send his sons as potential suitors. His boys had beauty AND brains. Surely they were a better match for the Prince than some clever (but plain) girl?
“But Father,” said Tom. “The Prince is a man. A male. How could I marry another man?”
“Because he’s a prince you fool!” his father cried. “He’s rich and powerful and whomever he marries will be rich and powerful also! Just imagine what you could do in that position?”
“We could throw parties, and attend feasts, and schtup servant girls” said Chad. “It wouldn’t be so bad, we’d just have to pretend to like him right? Not actually be in love?”
“Exactly,” said their old man.
“I could learn to love a man that rich,” said Chad.
“I hear that he’s quite pretty,” Tom said. “They say that he’s fairer than any woman in this kingdom. If that’s true then it will hardly matter he’s a guy, so long as he lets me top.”
So it was settled, Rosenbaum’s sons would propose to the Prince.
The brothers had a week to get ready, but neither was worried, as they were already very good looking and already knew so much.
Tom was tall, with broad shoulders and an earnest face with cheekbones to die for. He had a photographic memory and superhuman strength. The local girls called him ‘Superman’ and the ‘Man of Steel’ - both references to his legendary lovemaking prowess. He would have earned himself quite a nasty reputation with the fathers of these girls, if not for his quiet manner out of the boudoir.
He was able to recall and recite forwards and back any story that had appeared in the local paper for the last three years, as well as all the plays of William Shakespeare.
The other son, Chad Michael Murray, was blonde and broody, able to woo women with his pouty lips and ‘I’m a bad-boy’ demeanour. He was a notorious womanizer and boozer, constantly getting himself into trouble. As a result he was more than familiar with all the village laws. So he felt more than qualified to talk about affairs of state (especially - how unfair the current state policies regarding sex with minors were.)
He also knew how to stylishly spike his hair, groom stubble, and squint in a way that appeared sexy and alluring, and had much to say on that subject.
“I shall win the King’s son,” they each said.
On the day that the brothers were to leave on their journey to the royal court, the Squire gave them each a beautiful horse. For the Tom it was a coal black steed, and for Chad it was a milk white horse.
All of the servants had gathered in the courtyard to see them of, when along came the third brother. No one paid much attention to him. He was tallest of all the sons, his cheekbones less chiselled, and his ability to grow a beard was non-existent. His expression was beyond earnest. With his childlike joy at everything, he made Tom seem scowly by comparison. Where Chad had perfected a sensuous pout, this boy had a blinding grin. He laughed loudly and frequently - often at inappropriate times. He had large hands that would pull strangers into hugs. He was boisterous and talkative, friendly with all the staff, despite their lower station. People automatically assumed he was a little bit simple and paid him no mind.
They called him Jared Paddywhack because all the things he did were silly and foolish and whack. Strange to say, Paddywhack seemed to like himself just the way he was.
“Where are you two off to, all dressed to impress?” he asked his brothers.
“We’ve been summoned to the royal court, where we shall woo the Prince,” they said. “It’s only the most important thing to happen around here? Every town crier is shouting about it, all over the land. The Prince has announced his intentions to marry the one with the answer to everything.”
“What news!” said Paddywhack. “I’m coming too.”
The brothers laughed. “How could a whack guy like you have the answers to anything?” Tom asked. “You’re no genius!”
“Yeah, and you have terrible fashion sense,” Chad sneered. “I mean, dude, pink shirts?” Rolling his eyes, he and Tom rode off.
“Father, let me have a horse!” cried Paddywhack. “Suddenly I feel like getting married to the Prince. If he’ll marry me, fine, if not, I’ll marry him!”
“Stuff and nonsense!” said Rosenbaum. “I’m not going to give you a horse. First off sasquatch, you’re so big you’d probably squish any horse I could give you, and second, what would you have to say to a prince? Your brothers are a different matter; fine clever fellows, they are. And handsome too.”
“Well, if you won’t give me a horse,” said Paddywhack, “I’ll take my dogs. They’re my own, and they’ll get me there.”
Calling his loyal pets Sadie and Harley to him, he found a rusty old Radioflyer and fashioned himself a dog sled. He seated himself in the wagon, held on to his puppy’s leashes and galloped off down the road as fast as lightning. He’d show his Father and brothers that he was good enough for the Prince. Singing horribly off-key, Jared Paddywhack raced on to catch his brothers.
Tom and Chad were riding on ahead, not speaking to each other. Well, they’d started off speaking to each other about their plans to win the Prince and what they were going to do when they were King, but they had started to piss each other off. Tom had insisted that he was better looking and a better lover. Chad had argued that he would never get fat and was taken more seriously by the men of the village. Tom had pointed out that being chased off of playground’s for trying to pick up school girls hardly qualified one as being taken seriously - unless he was referring to being ‘taken seriously as a threat to the safety of young girls’ virginity.’
Chad had no comeback and instead lit a cigarette and ignored Tom. This suited the eldest son just fine, and both used the silence to rehearse what they would say to the Prince.
“Hey there!” shouted Paddywhack to his brothers, as his dog-drawn wagon caught up with them. “Look what I found on the road!” He held up a dead crow for his brothers to see.
“You whack idiot!” Tom said. “What the heck are you going to do with that?”
“Imma give it to the King’s son.”
“You do that,” Chad snickered as they kept on riding.
“Hey wait!” Paddywhack shouted again several miles later. “Look what else I found!”
The brothers turned to see what he had this time. “You don’t come across stuff like this on the road everyday,” Jared said proudly.
“What a fool,” Tom said. “It’s just an old wooden shoe with the top part missing.”
“You gonna give that to the Prince too?” Chad asked.
“Sure am,” answered Jared Paddywhack.
The brothers laughed and rode on.
“Aha!” Jared shouted again. “Things just keep getting better and better. Look at this! Ha! It’s perfect.”
“What have you got this time?” asked the brothers.
“Oh no, this stuff’s so special, I won’t tell you, but believe me when I say, the Prince will be delighted!”
“Ugh,” said the brothers. “It’s only mud from the ditch.”
“Pffft - only mud from the ditch. Shows what you know,” said Paddywhack. “This mud is so fine that I can’t even hold it - it runs between my fingers.” He filled his pockets with the stuff and rode on.
Embarrassed to be seen with their youngest sibling, the brothers rushed on ahead and arrived an hour before Jared. They had to stop at the city gates, where all the suitors, who had come from far and wide, were given numbers in order of their arrival. Looking around, Tom and Chad were disappointed to see that they weren’t the only men who’d decided to try their luck. Hundreds of people, both male and female, waited to greet the Prince.
“Man, I thought we’d be the only dudes here,” groaned Chad.
“Me too,” said Tom, refusing to pout about it. Partly because he wasn’t really all that surprised and also because he knew he looked better when he smiled. Pouting gives you wrinkles, he thought.
“Ha!” laughed the young man in front of them. “The only dudes? Are you stupid? Why do you think that announcement was so unspecific about gender in the first place?”
“I dunno,” Chad shrugged.
“’Cause the Prince here prefers the company of men. They wanted guys to come. Everyone knows that his highness is practically a Princess!” the man laughed. He wore jeans and a cowboy hat, with a guitar slung over his shoulder. Chad guessed this guy was going to impress the Prince with his singing. I have more to offer than this backwoods hick, he thought to himself.
“I guess that kind of makes sense. But why didn’t they just say that only men should come?” Tom asked.
“Shee-it kid, are you stupid? The King can’t exactly go around advertising that his son’s a fruit now, can he? This way, they can cover it up by saying they picked the best person - but I guar-on-tee you that ‘the person’ is going to be a dude.”
“Huh,” said Chad.
The brothers waited patiently for hours as one by one the suitors were ushered into the hall, and equally as quickly, they were ushered out.
At last it was Tom’s turn. Stay calm, he instructed himself as he walked across the creaking floor. He noticed that the ceiling was covered with mirrors, so he could see himself from all angles. Wow, I wish I had these in my bedroom, he thought. He got a little flushed by the idea. To further distract him, he noticed that City Councilman Kripke was there, waiting to record every word that was said and report it in the paper. The very newspaper that he read everyday. Wow ,I’m going to get to read about myself, he thought. How cool is that?
Between the thought of reading about himself and the naughty ideas that the mirrored ceilings were giving him, Tom felt a little hot. Adding to this, the stove in the room was going full blast. Tom began to sweat a little.
Grasping for something clever to say, he took a good look at the Prince. My god, the rumours are true, he thought. He’s beautiful. He cleared his throat and said, “Wow, s’hot.”
“You think I’m hot? Thanks,” said Prince Jensen with a smile.
“Er, oh,” Tom stuttered. “I actually was referring to the room, but um… you’re hot too.”
“Oh,” said Prince Jensen, frowning a little. “That’s because my father is roasting chickens today.”
Tom heard the scribbling of pens as Kripke and his clerks recorded the exchange. Shit, he thought. I don’t people to read about what a fool I’m making of myself.
“Uh huh,” was all he could think to say. This wasn’t going the way he planned. He searched his brain for something witty to say that might entertain the Prince, but there hadn’t been anything in Shakespeare’s plays or the newspapers about roasting chickens.
“Uh…” he paused.
“Boring!” trilled the Prince, cutting him off. “Next!” Tom was unceremoniously removed from the room.
The second brother walked in. He snuck a quick peek at the Prince and was fascinated by his full pink mouth. Wow, thought Chad. Now, there’re some lips I’d love to see wrapped around my cock. Maybe being married to this dude wouldn’t be so bad.
“It’s pretty hot in here,” Chad leered. “Should I take off all my clothes?”
“If you’d like,” Prince Jensen said, an amused look on his face.
“Oh, uh,” Chad hesitated at the thought of actually getting naked in front of all these people. “I wasn’t really offering to strip, I was just referring to that Nelly song. You know - it’s getting hot in herre,” he sang. He caught the clearly disappointed look on the Prince’s face. “Just ‘cause, you know… It’s, um. Hot… In here.” He awkwardly shoved his hands in his pockets and toed the floor.
“Ah, well. Yes,” said the Prince, “We’re roasting chickens.”
“What?” Chad asked, becoming aware that the clerks were transcribing the exchange.
“For the feast.”
“I love feasts,” Chad started to say.
“No good!” cried the Prince. “Next!”
Then Jared Paddywhack skidded into the Great Hall, pulled on his wagon by his trusty dogs.
“Wow, it’s hot enough in here for some barbeque!” he exclaimed, wiping his brow.
“That’s because I’m roasting chickens,” said the Prince, eyeing the young man before him, enthralled by his suitor’s easy-going manner and huge smile.
“Well, ain’t that handy-dandy,” Jared laughed. “Do you suppose I could get this crow roasted?” he asked, rising from the wagon with the crow in his hand.
“Of course,” said the Prince. “But what will you roast it in? I don’t have a pot or pan.”
“No worries,” said Paddywhack. “I’ll use this as a pot.” He put the crow into the old shoe.
“Well then, you have that covered,” said the Prince. “What will you use as a marinade?”
“Shucks, I got just the thing right here,” answered Jared, and he took some mud from his pocket.
“Now that’s what I like!” exclaimed Jensen. “A man who has an answer for everything! Not to mention that you are smokin’ hot. For that I’m going to marry you.”
“Really?” asked Jared, flashing a grin so bright that Jensen thought he may have gone blind, just for a second. “I think your pretty darned good lookin’ yerself!”
The prince blushed at the compliment. “Just so you know, Councilman Kripke is writing down everything we say to put in the newspapers. I’m sure you’ve heard that Eric can be dangerous. Some say he deliberately lies to make people look foolish. Others say he’s just to lazy to hire a fact checker. Either way, he tends to mix things up. Like once - he said that the Latin for God was ‘Christo’ when everyone knows that its really ‘Deus’.”
The prince was trying to see if Jared would be flustered by what he was saying, but Paddywhack simply stood there smiling big and easy. He turned to Kripke with a grin and gave him a once over.
“So, he’s a big shot, huh?” said Paddywhack. “Well, I best be sure to give him special treatment then.” He emptied his pockets and threw the mud in the Councilman’s face. Eric sputtered and wiped the glop off his face, while his clerks stood by and snickered, spilling ink on the floor.
“Terrific!” cried Prince Jensen. “I would never have thought of doing that myself. Somehow I think that with you by my side, things will be a lot more fun around here.”
That is the story of how Jared Paddywhack became the King and was given both the Prince and the crown. He and Sadie and Harley moved into the castle with Jensen and had lots of cute assbabies. We read about this in the newspaper story written by Councilman Kripke.
So of course, we know it’s true.
The end.