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300 Dalmatians part 4
By CeratosPit
*Herculidas arrives home and stands naked at his bedroom window holding a bottle of whiskey*
Passerby: Mommy! Mommy! I can see that man’s junk!
Passerby 2: Dear gods, it’s…glorious!
*Herculidas turns around, puts down the bottle and rubs his sleeping wife’s back*
Pocahontasas: Your glorious junk may finish what your fingers have started.
Herculidas: *hiccup* I didn’t wake to mean you.
Pocahontasas: The booze in your breath woke me before you even stepped in the house. What is wrong my love?
Herculidas: Friggin’ megalomaniacal seven and their drunken sorority girl! I don’t…I don’t think she was even Dalmatian…
Pocahontasas: …I’m sorry, what?
Herculidas: I’m the gods-damned King! I wanna go to war and die gloriously for logic and reason! Is that so wrong?
Pocahontasas: No. It’s clearly what you really want if you’re drunkenly babbling about it.
Herculidas: I know, right!? But the stupid law won’t let me! *hiccup* I’m so confused.
Pocahontasas: Now, you listen to me, Herculidas. There’s only one woman whose words should have an affect on you and those are mine.
Belle: *from the next room* And your mother’s!
Pocahontasas: We really need thicker walls. Anyway, you are the master of your own destiny. Don’t ask “What does the law say?”, ask “What would a free man do?”
Herculidas: I dunno. Morgan?
Morgan Freeman: I’ll tell you what you should do, Herculidas. You need to pass a law that allows you to overlook the Constitution and the words of the Oracle and call anybody who disagrees with you an unpatriotic sPonsor of terrorism. But first you need to make love to that smoking’ hot wife of yours, cuz if you don’t, then brother, I will!
Herculidas: You’re right, Morgan Freeman!
Pocahontasas: Honey, that’s a chair.
Herculidas: Baby. I need some…sexual healin’! Furry style!
*Pocahontasas squeals with delight. They make love dressed as Robin Hood and Captain Amelia. Mowglis walks in, excited*
Mowglis: Mom! Dad! It’s a miracle! My legs healed! *he sees them having furry sex and his eyeballs explode* AAAAAGGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!
*The next morning, Herculidas joins Captain Tarzanos and 300 of his finest soldiers out in the golden wheat field outside Zadar*
Herculidas: This is it?
Tarzanos: As you ordered, sire. Three Hundred of our sexiest.
Herculidas: I asked for three hundred of our most experienced.
Tarzanos: They’re at a wedding.
*Herculidas insPects his troops. He stops at a rather effeminate one of Asian descent with a bandaged up chest and a large, bushy mustache*
Mulanos: We are with you, sire! For Dalmatia! For freedom!
Herculidas: What’s your name, soldier?
Mulanos: My name is, uh, Mulannnnnn…os.
Herculidas: Do you make a habit of sPeaking out of turn?
Mulanos: That wasn’t me sire. That was a little red dragon who nobody can see except for me!
Herculidas: Mulanos! You’re crazy! I like that! It makes up for that girlish figure, lack of a bulge, bandaged chest and whatever reason you have to wear a fake mustache. You’re my kinda guy! If we don’t die gloriously, I’m buying you a drink. Ok, moving on. *continues insPecting* Good. Good. What’s your name, son?
Aladdinos: Aladdinos, sir!
Herculidas: Did I ask you to talk, Aladdinos!?
Aladdinos: Sir…yes sir?
Herculidas: I don’t like the cut of your jib, soldier! What makes you think you’re good enough to be here!?
Aladdinos: Sir! I can do THIS! *swings his sword in an attempt to slice off his own nipple, and dents the sword instead*
Herculidas: Impressive. I’ve only ever seen one other man who can do that.
Tarzanos: Aye. He is my son. An utter disappointment and shameful bearer of my lineage but I have other boys to replace him if we die.
Aladdinos: I love you too, dad.
Tarzanos: Go f*ck yourself.
*Approaching from Zadar, Gastonus and the seven dwarves interrupt Herculidas’ insPection*
Gastonus: My good king! I took the liberty of tattling on you!
Grumpus: What the hell, man? We told you--I mean, The Oracle told you-- you’re not allowed to go to war!
Herculidas: No, no, no, we’re not going to war. We’re, uh, going on a picnic.
Happus: A picnic!?
Herculidas: Yeah. We’re...we’re gonna, pick up some food and--
*Pocahontasas and Mowglis run over with his shield*
Pocahontasas: Honey! Honey, you forgot your shield.
Herculidas: …For…carrying the pizza. Man, those boxes sure get hot.
Gastonus: They certainly do. Tell me, your highness, where do you plan on having said “picnic”.
Herculidas: Your mom’s house.
Doccus: What are we gonna do?
Gastonus: What CAN we do?
Herculidas: What CAN ya do?
Mowglis: Is there an echo out here? I wouldn't know, I can't see cuz MY FRIGGIN' EYEBALLS EXPLODED!
Grumpus: If we get the slightest feeling you’ve gone off to wage war on the Goths behind our backs--
Herculidas: Oh relax. You guys are being way too paranoid.
Tarzanos: Soldiers! March!
Soldiers: *marching and chanting* HI HO! HI HO! IT’S OFF TO WAR WE GO! *whistling*
Herculidas: Well, I’d love to stay and chat but I’ve got some Goths to slaughter--I mean…picnics to enjoy.
*The dwarves and Gastonus angrily turn back to Zadar, leaving Pocahontasas and Mowglis standing with the king*
Pocahontasas: Dalmatian.
Herculidas: Yes, milady?
Pocahontasas: *hands him a shopping list* Come back with a pizza. Or come back on it.
Herculidas: Yes my queen.
*Herculidas turns to join his men as his wife and son look on. Well, his wife, anyway.*
Clopinos: *narrating* “Goodbye, my love.” He doesn’t say it. There is no place for sentiment in Dalmatia. Or weakness. Unless it’s the middle of the night and your drunk and making furry love, then it’s cool.
2 B contined...
9/11/2008 2:36:37 PM
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