Weekly Drabble Challenge

[lawnnun.livejournal.com]

Rules:
1) A drabble is, by definition, a 100-word story therefore all responses should be 100 words exactly, no exceptions.
2) You may also choose to respond to this challenge with a five-minute sketch.
3)PLEASE put the word DRABBLE at the top of your post. That way people can easily spot the drabbles in amongst any reader comments they receive.

RATING:I don't think this should be limited so reader beware that they could be any rating (you could put it in the subject line if you feel it needs it)

PLEASE try to remember to make each drabble a comment in response to the original post. That way, if the comments start to collapse, the drabbles themselves should remain visible.

Your mission, should you choose to accept it:
Metropolis, either the film (I'm watching it and it's brilliant) and the boys reacting to it, or simply the idea of a metropolis, such as the one Bertie lives in and loves so dearly.

Comments

[lawnnun.livejournal.com]

Drabble: Cinema Date

"You know the part I really don't understand, Jeeves? After all the metaphysical and metaphorical whatsits, I mean."

"I have not the faintest idea, Bertram. Please tell me."

"Well, when young Freder goes and changes lives with that pestilential Georgy, how in the world does he know how to work the machine? I mean, I suppose I'd be one of those blighters in the Eternal Gardens if it was all happening now, and as you well know I can't even make the tea."

"Nevertheless sir, I believe that you could mediate between Head and Hands, for you are my heart."

[emeraldreeve.livejournal.com]

How beautiful!

[lawnnun.livejournal.com]

Thank you! When I finally got around to watching it, Freder with his overall gormless sweetness reminded me of Bertie, and I'm sure the parallel wouldn't escape Jeeves.

[godsdaisiechain.livejournal.com]

I'm sure Freder doesn't hold a candle to Bertie for sweetness and goldenness of heart.

[godsdaisiechain.livejournal.com]

aw! But I bet Bertie could make tea....he can make a cocktail after all

[lawnnun.livejournal.com]

Ah yes, but he has had some training in booze. Mixing the booze is a manly, aristocratic occupation.

[godsdaisiechain.livejournal.com]

Tea is also aristocratic. Plus I'm sure he can do it.

*conversational necromancy*

[lawnnun.livejournal.com]

Yes, but an aristocratic lady is supposed to pour out and whatnot, where Drinks For Me And The Boys has its long and storied history with other half of the aristocracy.

(Series!Bertie canonically can't make tea, I'd say book!Bertie would just do so poorly. XD)

[random-nexus.livejournal.com]

Oh, that's just the sweetest thing for Jeeves to say, but also I sort of want to hug Bertie. Who'm I kidding, I want to hug them both. Only Jeeves might object.
;D

[godsdaisiechain.livejournal.com]

1968

Bertie tottered along, gazing cheerfully about the airport. “All hail the old metrop, what?”
“Most agreeable, sir.” Jeeves took his lover’s slender arm.
“None of that ‘sir’ business, Reggie mine. It’s all settled now. Coves can be coves with other coves and whatnot.”
“Indeed.” Jeeves pulled Bertie away as a porter spat at their feet.
“I say!” said Bertie, halting in his tracks. Jeeves frowned but Bertie was looking past him at a ‘welcome’ banner. “Bingo!” Jeeves turned sharply.
Dozens of former Drones and members of the Junior Ganymede Club clustered by the gates, eager to welcome their friends home.

[lawnnun.livejournal.com]

Oh my god, this is adorable. It's all poignant and gay and oh Bertie, you never did change. *hugs*

[godsdaisiechain.livejournal.com]

Thanks! It's all about making the audience happy and whatnot.

[random-nexus.livejournal.com]

How excellent! *grinning hugely*

[godsdaisiechain.livejournal.com]

Thanks!!

[random-nexus.livejournal.com]

DRABBLE: A Dedicated Country Miss Will Never Win That Dedicated Metropolis Mister

Bertie closed the door to his room at Bumpleigh Hall and leaned against it with an exuberant sigh. Bearing a reddish area on one cheek, hair mussed, tie askew, Bertie’s waistcoat and lapels were a bit rumpled.

Jeeves’ eyebrows bolted for his hairline, but he caught them before they got too far, enquiring, “Difficulty, sir?”

“Yes, but the plan worked a treat, old thing,” Bertie said with a nod, “Miss Edith Stinch-Chase, after I rhapsodised for most of the evening about the old metrop, has handed me the mitten,” he rubbed his cheek, “with some force.”

“I shall pack, sir.”

[lawnnun.livejournal.com]

There's one he hasn't tried. XD