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indeedsir_backup2009-10-18 07:14 pm
Ficlet-song-exercise tadpoles!
More mini writing exercise song thingummies from me.
Some I fancy more than others, but there's my stab. The rules do specify to not skip anything that comes up. So there...
Rated G, PG, maybe PG-13 tops if I'm any judge...
Some slash and some minor character love over here!
Unbeta'd and ready for critique.
Feedback is loved and always
Oh, also, QI= love:
Fry: "Why did the inventor of the decimal point encourage his servants to stroke his cock?"
Carr: "Is it because, if you've got servants, you would, wouldn't you?
1. There is a Light- The Smiths
It was a rather rummy set of circs involving my Aunt Agatha—surely you remember, the one who is subject to transformation on a full moon and who may or may not be responsible for the increase of children gone missing in country villages—which saw the end of young Bertram moping about the flat in an amazingly rummy mood.
I was standing rather near the window, staring out it, but somehow seeing nothing. The day was of a bleaker nature, and even the weather seemed to be bathing in the misery. There was no rain, just a dull, grey humidity hanging thickly in the air, and a few wisps of white fog floating harmlessly and noiselessly through the streets. After about five minutes I stopped absorbing any information that might have presented itself in my field of view. I merely stood, looking out at the world below, and seeing nothing.
“Jeeves,” I called impulsively, for the man tends to brighten my mood. “Any chance that I might recruit your efforts to help brighten my mood? It’s been a bally sort of a day and an even rummier sort of week.” I confess that, while all I was expecting from my man was a catalogue of pleasant thoughts or things I could occupy myself with; still I harboured that secret, unmentionable desire for his hand on my shoulder, or, perhaps even a light kiss. But this, I knew I would not, could not have.
“Perhaps, sir, a visit to your club may cheer you?”
“Jeeves, every time I pop down to the Drones in any kind of mood there’s always some bally needy friend, and while I have nothing against needy friends—it is my code after all, you know—I care to avoid them whenever I possibly can, without being rude about it or anything.”
“Very true, sir... though perhaps a short stay in the country, with your aunt, may—”
“I want nothing to do with aunts at the mo’, Jeeves. Nor cousins, nor country manners or even Anatole’s food!” I realized I was being the most awful sort of prattish figure, but there was nothing I could do to stop myself. I just kept shutting Jeeves down, even though he was trying his best, and on my own demand. There was a pause, and a dashed uncomfortable one at that; then a soft, soothing voice breezed its way between us, its origin somewhat closer to self than before. I continued my stare out the window, still seeing nothing.
“Perhaps, sir, a longer retreat would—”
“I say, Jeeves!” I whirled 180 degrees on my heel, for a corker of an idea had just occurred to me. In my moment of lacking foresight, however, I tripped on Jeeves, who had apparently been standing rather close behind me. He caught me, corrected me, and raised his eyebrows. I thought for a moment with trepidation and fear that he had noticed the blush surfacing on the Wooster map.
“Eh?” I gave one of my horrendous nervous laughs.
“You were about to explain, sir, a notion which had just occurred to you.”
“Oh, eh—right! Jeeves, start the car if you would.”
“Very good, sir. Where to, sir?” He followed me in my step to the foyer, and helped me into my raincoat.
“Anywhere, Jeeves.” He placed my hat on the old lemon and handed me my cane with the usual grace, then lifted his eyes to me with a respectful, but inquisitive “Sir?”
“Anywhere, and nowhere. I will go anywhere, so long as I do not have to meet with anyone I know. Just a drive, Jeeves.”
“Very good, sir. And you wish me to accompany you?” I caught his eye, and it was giving me quite a rummy look: sort of a mixture of confusion, as if Jeeves is ever confused, and a tint of amusement, and also, somewhere, something endeared. Either he was humouring me while thinking me completely certifiable or...
“I should jolly well think so. You don’t trust me to drive safely through this fog, do you?”
“While I have negligible doubt of your abilities as a skilled driver, sir, I must confess the fog appears to be thickening, and sunset is nigh.” He shrugged on his own coat—as much as Jeeves shrugs anything—and opened the door for me.
“After you, sir.” And there was something in the way he said it, that sent a shiver up the Wooster spine as I walked out into the hall.
2. Halo- Beyonce
Jeeves stood at the mirror, hardly believing his eyes. Sunlight trickled in from the master bedroom, lighting the entire room where his beloved slept, and Jeeves looked in from the master bath with an overpowering fondness and protection.
Bertie was asleep still, but it was far later than Jeeves had woken in years of his employment. Even on his annual vacations, Jeeves still rose at the usual early hour of five, more to avoid breaking habit than out of necessity.
Bertie, Jeeves thought with a fond smile, and looked back into the mirror, not bothering to help the dreamy look that had come to his eye. And last night Bertie had returned his love. All that generosity, all that kindness, all that Jeeves loved about the man, Bertie had offered to share with him, in return for the equal quantity of Jeeves. It was the first night they had spent together, and Jeeves had promised Bertie to stay in the bedroom until the young master woke.
Brushing his teeth, Jeeves reflected on his luck, and decided on one thing: he would make this easy for Bertie. There would be no trials of love, no tests or thorough interrogations.
He looked back at Bertie again as he completed his ablutions. All those years of standing guard, of not allowing anyone near him, had paid off. He’d found Bertie, and learned how to trust him. He repeated to himself that he trusted Bertie—that, for once, he trusted someone other than himself.
Bertie stirred under the sheets, and the cries of the previous night, the declaration of love he’d heard, the assurances, all came whirling about Jeeves’ ears like the most beautiful symphony. Bertie trusted Jeeves as well, this he knew. He always had.
And there could be no love where there was not implicit trust; Jeeves gave a concluding thought, before returning to the bed in the young master’s dressing gown.
3. On the Roof Again- Eve 6
Gussie looked down at the Glossop menace from his place atop the roof. All this for that silly beazel Angela. He didn’t even love Angela! He just attached himself to her because...
Well, he knew he loved Madeline, but she thought he was a quack. And it was all so sudden—her denying him, and Angela coming along and recommending their engagement. Really he didn’t know how these people could move such fast-paced lives. He thought London was bad, but this was an absolute nightmare.
If only he had the ability to see into the future, he thought. But who could have predicted this? The circs were bally rummy, as Bertie would say. Bertie! That’s it! Jeeves would know what to do! Maybe they’ll even get me down...
“Bertie!” He shouted to the sky, hoping it would somehow echo, and that Bertie would somehow hear him and come to his aid.
No such luck, as the only response he heard was Tuppy Glossop bellow something about breaking both Gussie’s legs. But hadn’t Tuppy just compared him to a snake in the grass?
“Tuppy, you ass, snakes don’t have legs!” He shouted, looking now to the Glossop below, who shook his fist menacingly and continued cursing Gussie, telling him to come off the roof.
In a bolt of courage, Gussie yelled, “Why would I do that? Do you think I’m stupid, or just plain suicidal? Sucks to you, Tuppy!” But when Tuppy made the effort to begin scaling the wall where Gussie had climbed, he returned to foetal position and cowered.
4. Be My Hero-October Project
Bertie gazed in amazement from across the room at Jeeves, who was performing his daily tasks with ease and efficiency. The man had just finished sorting out another engagement to Madeline Basset, and had managed to stave off Aunt Agatha by arranging a “much-needed vacation” liner to leave half an hour early, for a ship headed for the tip of South Africa to be docked in its place, and for aforementioned Aunt A. to be convinced of it being her cruise ship. In short, Aunt A. was out of Bertie’s hair, and would be, he hoped, for a very, very long time.
The man’s a marvel, yes, Bertie agreed to himself. But how on earth even a marvel did the things Jeeves does, almost daily, was beyond his comprehension. Mean to say, he was no mere paragon of valets or marvel of men.
“Jeeves?”
“Sir?” Jeeves stopped his dusting and turned respectfully to Bertie.
“Jeeves, what would you do—that is to say, how would you respond—if I were to say you were my hero?”
Jeeves stared, wide-eyed at the young master, for longer than absolutely necessary.
“Your... I beg your pardon, sir, I must have misunderstood.”
But he had not; Bertie reiterated, emphasizing the words ‘my’ and ‘hero’ in deliberate English.
He did not have the words to answer. How could one? It was so brilliantly subtle, yet so perfectly clear, Jeeves thought. Surely this, this was no name for a wise old uncle or guardian—hardly even for a friend, and most definitely, not a valet. This was definite, Jeeves had thought.
Bertie, meanwhile, sat for a while, perfectly content, and detecting nothing out of the ordinary; until Jeeves began walking, slowly towards him, each step accented and deliberate. And soon, Bertie was directly under Jeeves’ looming figure, a puzzled look on his porcelain face. Jeeves cupped that much-loved face in his hands tenderly, and leant over, kissing Bertie with tentative care and affection.
5. Don’t Stand So Close To Me- the Police
Bingo knew just by looking at Ainsley that she was The One. He could see it in the curl of her ebony locks, the flash of her almond-like eyes, and the way she airily said, with her highland accent, “Could you help me with this problem, sir?”
Girls like these were one in ten million, Bingo told himself. Still, every day near her as a mathematics tutor was Hell itself. He longed to be her husband, her lover, and yet he knew her parents would never allow their daughter, a young woman of only sixteen years, to marry an Englishman with a decade’s more experience than she. No, this was not meant to be, he would think with a sinking heart. And so he left tutoring Ainsley after only two months, claiming to be homesick; he returned to England and forgot her, but Ainsley would not forget the man who would moon and dribble over her, and say her name as though she were a tender goddess.
6. Misery- Soul Asylum
“Rosie still won’t speak to me... I just don’t know what I did!”
“Truly, though, do you think I’m gaining too much weight? I understand I may never have been a slim man, but I’ve been stout, healthy, big-boned, and strong. That’s the sort of manly build girls like Angela would like, isn’t it?”
“Do you think it was because I blamed her for eating everything in the pantry? I mean to say, there was no one else who could have done it! The servants wouldn’t have dared, and she was getting a bit bigger around the tum...”
“Yes, Bingo, you do remember that it was you who kept eating from the pantry, and that Rosie’s abdominal region was a result of pregnancy?”
“Oh, yes. That’s right. Well, I was sleepwalking! It couldn’t be helped. And I’m not to blame for the pregnancy, neither...”
“Bingo, most married men would hope that they were to blame for their wife’s pregnancy, and here you are moaning about it when you’ve got a lovely little girl to show for your efforts in matrimony. And Tuppy,”
“Mh?”
“Perhaps Angela would stop complaining about your gaining weight, if you stopped unconsciously eating.”
“Yuh, bwel— ”
“And I have the mind that cousin A. would also appreciate it if you didn’t talk with your mouth full quite so much. You’re my nearest and dearest chum, Tuppy, and a good egg all through, but that really is unsightly.”
“Now, when you say ‘to blame...’ you don’t mean that I’m responsible for getting Rosie pregnant do you?”
“Bingo, how do you think she got there?”
“They do it themselves, don’t they?”
I threw up my arms and walked away. If my best pals were going to be miserable for their entire married lives, let them, say I. Not that I’d wish ill on them, but some things Bertram just has to let slide as the Way of Things.
Thank heavens I have Jeeves is all I can say.
7. The Origin of Love- Hedwig and the Angry Inch
“Jeeves?”
“Sir?”
“You’re a brainy sort of cove.”
“It is kind of you to say so, sir.”
“I mean it Jeeves, truly, sincerely, but I wonder--”
“Sir?”
“If I’ve found the question you can’t answer?”
“That would depend on the question in question, if I might give the effect of repetition, sir.”
“Well, the question is: where, and when, and how, and bally why, did Love begin?”
“Love, sir?”
“Love, Jeeves.”
“Well, sir, the philosopher Plato in his dialogue Symposium made the statement that in the beginning, man was constructed far differently than we are today. He said, sir, that there were three sexes, and each gave the impression of being, as it were, composed of two beings. One sex composed of two women, one composed of two men, and one of a man and a woman.”
“Not sure I’m following, Jeeves. Trailing behind a bit, as it were. Could you, erm...”
“I shall extrapolate if you wish, sir.”
“Pull-ate away, Jeeves.”
“Sir?”
“Whatever it was you said. Just, explain what the poet Johnny said.”
“Plato, sir. He said that there were, in effect, two people back-to-back, composing one being. That these early humans tried to rebel against the gods and where therefore punished be being split down the middle, creating two individual humans in the forms as we see them today.”
“So... hang on, what’s that got to do with love, Jeeves?”
“Well, sir, the overall thought is that we—humans—were once bound together with a constant companion, who we lost in our folly to try and conquer fate. Our ‘love’ is, therefore, the longing of being reunited with the person to whom we were once bound.”
“I say! That’s rather rum, Jeeves. Deep, don’t you know. Poetic, and so on.”
“I agree, sir, though my brief summary does not do the original work justice.”
“Well I’m glad—I haven’t the time, energy, nor the brains to read into it. I’ll put it on my list for the long winter evenings. But, Jeeves... is any of that true, do you think?”
“I highly doubt it, sir. But it is, in my opinion, an entertaining thought nevertheless.”
“Ah, I see. So you don’t believe that story?”
“No, sir. Might I ask, do you, sir?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say I believe in that per se, but it’s got some degree of truth, hasn’t it?”
“Sir?”
“Well the bit about longing, I mean.”
“I see, sir.”
“Perhaps not clearly enough, Jeeves.”
I would have said something more clever or romantic or something, but Jeeves knows I’m not a brainy, suave cove like he is. And he seemed more than happy to take me as I was, whatever our origins may have been.
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♥ !
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Also, I liked the sixth one especially. Ever since Mabel ditched Bingo for Jeeves (who wouldn't ditch their current man for Jeeves?), I've always been a bit sympathetic to his conjugal grievances!!!
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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZcLQSCB54og&feature=related
There's the episode if you're interested [I know I'm not quite as interesting as Fry, I'll admit it :)]
*ahem*
Anyway, very glad you liked these!
The sixth was one of my favorites too.
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Thanks for reading ^_^ So glad you enjoyed.
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nothing like adorable ficlets to break the anger caused by english essays <3
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