Ficlet: Pimp My Ride
Title: Pimp My Ride
Author: mideltone_one
Word Count: 525
Rating: G
Characters/Pairings: Allan, Guy
Spoilers/Warnings: Set between 2x5 and 2x12
Summary: Allan’s new money making scheme can’t fail
Disclaimer:The Robin Hood characters written about here belong to Tiger Aspect and the British Broadcasting Corporation. All Rights Reserved. No copyright infringement is intended nor is any money being made. I don't own them - if I did I'd be too busy drooling to write! All mistakes are mine.
Guy marched into the outbuilding. "Well then, boy, what is this idea which you claim will generate so much income for me?"
Allan stepped forward, looking confident, "Imagine, if you will Sir Guy, that you are a man of middling means, not the success I see before me."
Gisborne growled. "If you think buttering me up will help you, you are mistaken," he said, leaving the implied threat hanging in the air.
"So," continued Allan, "with middling means, you might not be able to buy the sort of horse you'd like; the sort of horse that'll impress the ladies of the town. And that's where we come in."
"By doing what?" asked Guy, clearly edging towards anger.
"By selling ‘enhancements’” answered Allan, picking up a jar from the shelf behind him, “For example, by applying this hoof blacking you'll give your steed a distinctive look. Or what about these sleek low profile horse shoes - guaranteed to get you noticed around town. Or this," he held up a stem of ginger, "grate it and mix a little with the usual feed, and you'll notice an increase in speed, if you're racing the other lads for a maiden's heart."
Clearly seeing the need to impress his master more than he had so far, Allan sought out another item. "What about this," he said, holding up an oddly shaped piece of wood with a clamp at each end. "I know this is going to be a really big seller."
Guy looked confused. "What is it?" he asked.
"Your very own sound system," came the reply. Guy still looked puzzled. "This end," continued Allan, pointing at the larger of the two clamps, "attaches to your saddle, while this other end holds your flute. There you go - music wherever you are."
"So while I, as an honest citizen of the town am trying to relax in my own home, I am going to be disturbed by groups of horse mad youths riding up and down the street, playing their music so loudly, it drives me out of my mind."
Allan seemed phased by the comment, but only for a moment. Trying not to draw attention to it, he moved slightly so he was standing in front of the drum holder he also planned to sell. No doubt if he mentioned it, he'd just get complaints from Guy about "young men with their 'thump, thump, thump' music disturbing his peace."
Guy looked over Allan's shoulder, at the various items hanging from the outbuilding's wall: coloured reins, patterned saddle covers ("to protect the leather"), extra wide stirrups, and what appeared to be a pair of oversized dice made from fur.
"Why would anyone spend money on this rubbish?” he asked, "Wouldn't it make more sense to just save up and buy a better horse to start with?"
Allan chuckled, nodding his head. "Men who already have their pick of the fairer sex, like us," he noticed the raised eyebrow from his master, "like you I mean, know that none of this makes any difference, but these young bucks need something to spend their money on, so why shouldn't we benefit from it?"
Author: mideltone_one
Word Count: 525
Rating: G
Characters/Pairings: Allan, Guy
Spoilers/Warnings: Set between 2x5 and 2x12
Summary: Allan’s new money making scheme can’t fail
Disclaimer:The Robin Hood characters written about here belong to Tiger Aspect and the British Broadcasting Corporation. All Rights Reserved. No copyright infringement is intended nor is any money being made. I don't own them - if I did I'd be too busy drooling to write! All mistakes are mine.
Guy marched into the outbuilding. "Well then, boy, what is this idea which you claim will generate so much income for me?"
Allan stepped forward, looking confident, "Imagine, if you will Sir Guy, that you are a man of middling means, not the success I see before me."
Gisborne growled. "If you think buttering me up will help you, you are mistaken," he said, leaving the implied threat hanging in the air.
"So," continued Allan, "with middling means, you might not be able to buy the sort of horse you'd like; the sort of horse that'll impress the ladies of the town. And that's where we come in."
"By doing what?" asked Guy, clearly edging towards anger.
"By selling ‘enhancements’” answered Allan, picking up a jar from the shelf behind him, “For example, by applying this hoof blacking you'll give your steed a distinctive look. Or what about these sleek low profile horse shoes - guaranteed to get you noticed around town. Or this," he held up a stem of ginger, "grate it and mix a little with the usual feed, and you'll notice an increase in speed, if you're racing the other lads for a maiden's heart."
Clearly seeing the need to impress his master more than he had so far, Allan sought out another item. "What about this," he said, holding up an oddly shaped piece of wood with a clamp at each end. "I know this is going to be a really big seller."
Guy looked confused. "What is it?" he asked.
"Your very own sound system," came the reply. Guy still looked puzzled. "This end," continued Allan, pointing at the larger of the two clamps, "attaches to your saddle, while this other end holds your flute. There you go - music wherever you are."
"So while I, as an honest citizen of the town am trying to relax in my own home, I am going to be disturbed by groups of horse mad youths riding up and down the street, playing their music so loudly, it drives me out of my mind."
Allan seemed phased by the comment, but only for a moment. Trying not to draw attention to it, he moved slightly so he was standing in front of the drum holder he also planned to sell. No doubt if he mentioned it, he'd just get complaints from Guy about "young men with their 'thump, thump, thump' music disturbing his peace."
Guy looked over Allan's shoulder, at the various items hanging from the outbuilding's wall: coloured reins, patterned saddle covers ("to protect the leather"), extra wide stirrups, and what appeared to be a pair of oversized dice made from fur.
"Why would anyone spend money on this rubbish?” he asked, "Wouldn't it make more sense to just save up and buy a better horse to start with?"
Allan chuckled, nodding his head. "Men who already have their pick of the fairer sex, like us," he noticed the raised eyebrow from his master, "like you I mean, know that none of this makes any difference, but these young bucks need something to spend their money on, so why shouldn't we benefit from it?"