Example making

By Leah

Summary

Set after "Leather Clad Pudsey" Guy has been put on example making detox.

Oh dear.

Disclaimer

Rated M for sexual references and shickered people-that's kiwi for drunk-I do not own a thing.

Rats!

Nottingham Castle, Vasey's quarters.

"No!"

"Yes!"

"NO!"

"Yesssssssssssssssssssssss!"

Dramatic pause.

"YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!"

Sheriff Vasey, most powerful bloke on the planet next to Prince John, pouted and sat back in his power seat, fingers tapping the wooden armrests.

"Do I look like I'm joshing?" he asked.

"My lord!"

"Gisborne, for my sake, and for the love of god too, just tell me. Do I look like I am joshing?"

Guy miserably stared at the floor and wondered whether or not he should tell Vasey that he actually looked a bit like a constipated bear.

"Well?" Vasey demanded.

"No," he mumbled.

Let joy be unconfined, he had made the right choice!

"Good boy!" the sheriff praised. "As of 3, 2, 1 … now, you are hereby banned from making any kind of example until your detox is over, which will be in three days time. Do you comprehend?"

Guy's shoulders slumped.

"Yes," he mumbled and rumbled at the same time.

"Don't try that on me!" Vasey barked sternly. "You know I usually give in when you do that!"

"That's why I do it!" Guy barked back.

"You complete and utter prat! You impossible Burke! You great big clot! I told you to slow down but oh nooooo! Our wee little Guy had to chuck wobbly after sodding wobbly! You've made so many examples of late we haven't got anyone left to play with!"

Guy, feeling even more miserable, turned his head and sniffed.

"Putting those pink ribbons in my horse's mane and tail was the last straw!" Vasey continued.

"It shat on my boots in front of the prince!" Guy bellowed then frowned in confusion, "How did you know it was me?"

"You smirked."

"I don't buy that!"

"You really are one stroppy puppy aren't you?" the sheriff groaned, glaring at Guy. "Fine, fine. Isabella dobbed you in."

"WHAT?" Guy thundered, spectacular nostrils flaring, spittle going everywhere.

"No point in spitting the dummy," Vasey said wiping Goggy boy's spit off his nose. "She's lapping up the luxury with her prince charming in his palace. You'll just have to wait for her to get back before you can extract your revenge."

"Bollocks!"

"I assure you, Gisborne, I am not bollocking you," the widdle Vasey Wasey answered then sighed. "I am starting to regret telling you that you could burn down villages just to let off steam. We had twenty, now there are five! Five, I tell you! Five!"

"I know how to count! I'm not Robin hood!"

"Then you should have bloody well stopped!" Vasey growled. "Now get out of my sight! I've got to figure out whom to grovel to so I can get enough cash to rebuild the villages and send my horse to therapy!"

Again, Guy's fantastic nostrils flared. He opened his mouth to give his really boring speech about absolute loyalty but as soon as he got to the "My loyalty is absolute," bit, the big V cut him off.

"Yes. Yes. Very pretty. Now do jigger off. Jigger off, I like that. Much nicer then "fuck off" isn't it, Gisborne? Gisborne? Oh, you're doing what I'm telling you? There's a good pleather boy! Jolly good! Don't slam the door on your way out."
SLAM!

"Ow …" the short sheriff moaned. "Someone get me a goblet of wine … I've got a headache."

Later, Vasey's quarters.

"Right, you two," Vasey cracked his knuckles. "Here's the plan. As you would know by now, Guy is on example making detox."

"Not being funny, but this sounds like a suicide mission to me," Allan said to Maz.

"Oh dear," the amazing Mazza thought, suddenly feeling very afraid.

"Ahem! I am speaking now! Wait your turn!" Vasey demanded, glaring at the lovable Allan. "It is your duty to make sure our Guy does not give into temptation for approximately three days! Got that? Three days!"

"Time to start praying," Allan sing songed under his breath, hence earning a smack on the derrière from Vasey who was now prowling around the chamber.

"Now be off with you," Vasey ordered. "You will keep Gisborne contained and you will be seen to be enjoying it!"

"Because he can't hurt us?" Allan asked innocently.

"Exactly! But you cannot-on pain of death-allow anyone else to know about Gisborne's detox or they may try to make an example out of him and then the whole thing may back fire."

"There's some logic in that," Marian agreed although she was surprised she was doing such a thing, agreeing with the sheriff …. She might need some twelfth century retail therapy later this afternoon.

"Right, first we'd better hide the two Pudsey bears."

"What? He doesn't know they've resurfaced?" Marian, suddenly extremely nervous, asked.

"Nope."

"You hide the bears and I'll wash the fresh urine patch on his rug courtesy of Molly," Marian ordered then groaned mentally for she had, much to Vasey's delight, allowed Allan to get the easier of the two tasks.

"Hang on, don't you mean, courtesy of Pete?" Allan asked quizzically.

"No, Molly," Marian said. "Guy told her off for doing stinky farts at night. She didn't take it very well so she weed on his bed."

"Oh."

"Hide the Pudsies well, Allan," the mega powerful sheriff instructed. "For if Guy ruins the Pudsey Mardi Gras, I'll never forgive you."

Marian's chambers

Poor little Mazza was beyond very afraid now. She was terrified!

No more example making of any kind for three whole days! No more spanking. No more bondage! No more yanky, yanky!

How on earth was she going to cope?

Retail? Booze? Fluffy ponies?

Not good enough!

'Might have to start my dirty parchments again,' she thought, dismally.

End of part 1

Authors note

Will Allan and Marian manage to help Guy through his detox?

Find out in the next, hopefully longer, chapter of ... Example making, the sequel to "leather clad Pudsey!"