Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, I don't own "A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum;" all I own is the air I breathe. I just hope everyone enjoys!

Explanation: So, I have always loved the musical "A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum," but it wasn't until I saw that someone requested a Hetalia cast of the musical that I ever thought of making a Hetalia version. This will probably not be as funny as the musical and if you have never seen the musical I highly recommend you see it. Please enjoy this version of it though and laugh a lot. Because it is Tragedy tomorrow; Comedy TONIGHT!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~COMEDYCOMEDYCOMEDYTONIGHT~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Something for Everyone: A Comedy Tonight

Our story is set in this middle-class neighborhood inside the great city of Heta-Heta. There are three houses side by side that have all seen slightly more awesome days, but still look nice enough that everyone can pretend they've got more money than they do. To my right is the not awesome house of Kirkland. The owner Arthur Kirkland is currently abroad right now, sailing the many oceans to find his stolen children. The poor man lost his children to the great Honda ninjas after they overheard Kirkland making a boast that his pirate band could beat out ninjas any day of the week.

And thus another in a long line of tragedy from the eternal debate: Ninjas or Pirates?

Let us all pause in a moment of silence to think of all the families torn apart and the many fans lost in this debate…

The house on the left is the house of Bonnefoy, the great panderer (for those of you who are not awesome, that means he is a pimp). Nice guy, I like his way of interior decorating if you get my drift.

…No asshole, I meant that he has hot, scantily-clad chicks all over his house. I don't want to go to IKEA or some other interior whatever store.

Idiot.

What about the awesome house in the middle, you ask? In that house live the "happily" married Ivan Braginsky and his gentle, sweet, loving wife Natalya (the adjectives were all sarcastic). It holds many a person, but none as awesome as the main character. What, you want to know about the main character? Why such an awesome man has never before been born! Virgins tremble when he passes. Men weep in shame that they are not he. Truly the main character is a man of such handsome looks, such mighty strength, such great cunning, such pure AWESOMENESS… I will stop the suspense… I am the main character! Gilbert Beilschmidt of Prussia! Suck it losers!

And thus our story begins…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~Change of scene~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Natalya finished putting the last of her make-up on and nodded with satisfaction at the results. Admiring herself in the mirror, she frowned when she say her husband staring longingly at the thrice damned house next door. She bristled at the thought of her husband looking with such want at that damn flesh-monger's house! She moved behind her darling husband, grabbed him, and sweetly hissed, "What are you looking at dearest?"

Ivan began to sweat and shake in fear and quickly stuttered, "N-nothing my d-darling. Just looking on in u-unhappiness at living next door to a house filled with beautiful… untouched… not-you-women. And I just hate being near so many not-you-women!" Natalya looked over his shoulder (ignoring the soft whimper of fear from her husband) and snarled as she saw Bonnefoy bringing in another load of "goods." He must have heard the commotion because he looked up and gave a saucy wink and wave at his neighbors.

Natalya responded with a glare and slammed her windows shut.

Dragging her husband, Natalya began to head to the door. She screeched out, "RODERICH!"

Her screech instantly summoned her best slave, Roderich, to her side. He gave a bow and said with a genteel voice, "Mistress?"

She sniffed, "Alright Roderich, Ivan and I are going to visit my sickly mother in the country. Do you have our gift?" To this Roderich picked up a glorious painting of Natalya standing triumph over a dead and bloody bear. Natalya gazed at the painting with something akin to happiness (all the slaves of House Braginsky had quickly found that their mistress had only three emotions: scary, less scary, and HOLY-FUCK scary). She nodded and said, "Good, now while we're away you're in charge of the household. I want everything to run smoothly, and for my nephew, Toris, to be kept happy. Right now he should be studying for his exams with his tutor. Make sure he stays healthy and keep him away from that house next door. I refuse to have a family member of mine consorting with courtesans."

Ivan tried to reason with his wife, "But darling, moonlight of my life, little Toris has to learn sometime what a man and woman does together…" The look Natalya sent him caused his manhood to try and retract deep inside his body.

She gave him a chilling smile and cooed gently, "Yes but dear, when he is ready for that… you can teach him all you know about humping a woman and leaving her unsatisfied. Now we're going, say good-bye, get my painting, and let's go."

As Natalya turned to leave, Ivan miserably whispered to Roderich, "Take my advice… never propose after drinking twice your body weight in vodka."

Just then, there was a knock on the door. Natalya opened the door to see two police officers dragging in her most worthless slave, Gilbert. She gave a sigh and asked, "What did the idiot do now?"

The police officer said, "He was gambling and causing a disturbance in the local bar. When we tried to arrest him, he fought back. Then when we tried to punish him, he defied us again and said we couldn't."

Gilbert gave a cheeky sneer and said, "That is because I'm a family slave. What's the use of being a family slave, if strangers are just going to be unawesome and try and kill you?!"

Natalya groaned and said, "Do not worry officers, we will send money for the damages and torture him mercilessly." Gilbert winced and grumbled, "See how awesome my family treats me?"

The officers shoved Gilbert at Natalya, gave her the address and left. Gilbert quickly began to kiss Natalya's dress as she looked at him with disdain, "Now what to do with you?"

Gilbert tried to save himself, "M-mistress please! I was only trying to get money to buy a present for you to give to your charming mother."

Natalya snorted, "Bull. You were gambling to try and win enough money to buy your freedom, like you do every time you slip out of this house."

Gilbert looked shocked and placed a hand dramatically over his heart. He gasped, "But mistress! How could one ever wish to leave the presence of such a godly, beautiful creature like yourself?"

Ivan mumbled, "I wouldn't mind."

Natalya speared him with a look, "What was that, dear husband?"

Ivan shook with fear and quickly whimpered, "Nothing oh love of my life and gift to the unworthy me from the gods. I love you so, so much."

Natalya rolled her eyes and beckoned Roderich over. Natalya regarded them both and said, "Alright, how to punish you Gilbert?"

Roderich quickly began brainstorming ideas such as: hanging from the toes, being eaten alive by fire ants, castration, cooked in an oven, whipped until the whip broke, and many other fun pastimes. Gilbert turned a little greener at each one and decided to jump in. Shoving Roderich aside, Gilbert slung his arm over Natalya's shoulder and said, "While Roderich here is trying hard mistress, I think he is thinking too inside the box. You see, the awesome that is me is impervious to pain and none of these silly little ideas he has will work on me. May I suggest—" Whatever Gilbert had been about to suggest was quickly cut off as Roderich gave him a pinch. The pinch caused Gilbert to give a feminine screech and jump over three feet in the air. Natalya rubbed her forehead in exasperation as the two slaves now glared at each other.

Then the idea hit.

Natalya called out, "ELIZABETA!" Both slaves turned as Elizabeta, the slave punisher, appeared from nowhere. Gilbert gave a little gulp of fear while Roderich looked on with love-struck, puppy eyes. Natalya said, "Elizabeta, punish Gilbert as you see fit. Do not spare a moment of mercy." Elizabeta nodded and Gilbert panicked.

Gilbert rushed after his leaving masters crying, "W-Wait! Don't give me to that she-male freak! She will tear me to pieces! I want the fire ants, please!"

But they were gone. Gilbert whimpered at the evil aura Elizabeta had flowing from her and quickly made a run for it. As she went to pursue her prey, Elizabeta took a moment to stop and give Roderich a sweet, shy smile. Roderich gave a yearning sigh as she ran off to capture and torment Gilbert; why couldn't he ever get lucky enough to be punished by Elizabeta?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~CHANGE~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Toris did his best to appear interested in what his Polish tutor, Feliks, was saying, but it really was a futile task! Every moment was spent by the Pole talking about fashion or chain letters as viable blackmail or how he looked SO nice in his new dress… really it was impossible!

(Toris also couldn't figure out why knowing that his tutor's complexion was so wonderful and his skirts were so cute would help him in his plant and fungi biology class.)

On the plus side, Feliks was so self-absorbed that Toris didn't even have to pretend to pay attention after a good five minutes into his "lecture." This left ample time to stare and dream of her. Toris let out a happy, pining sigh as his eyes drifted to the window. There she was again. Sitting by the window, playing with her hair and smiling, chatting with someone else in her room; she was the radiant star in Toris' life and every moment he spent wishing he could be near her.

Alas, she also happened to be a member of the House of Bonnefoy's… ladies.

Toris gave a sad sigh. She was out of his reach, and so near at the same time. It was the sweetest torture! Oh, what he would give if he could talk to her, learn her name, make her smile at him, and, maybe if he was lucky enough, she would fall in love with him as he loved her.

WHAP!

Toris winced and rubbed his head before taking a glance at his irate tutor's face. The Pole huffed, "Like, I can FEEL your negative energy across the room!" Feliks crossed his arms and gave a toss of his magnificent (Felik's words, not his) hair and said, "Like, if you're going to spread all your doom and gloom and pessimism, you'll, like, give yourself wrinkles! And then you could give ME wrinkles! Totes unfab, so I'm going to, like, leave for the day and let you get out of your little funk Mr. Dark Cloud!"

And with that fabulous statement, the Pole turned heel and left, his delightfully pink and sparkly mini-skirt sashaying with each marvelous step.

Toris blinked for a couple of seconds before realizing two things. One, his class was over. Two, with his class over and his guardians gone, he could sneak over to Bonnefoy's House and maybe talk to her! Learn her name!

With that cheerful thought, Toris scurried downstairs and into the backyard garden. He looked around, trying to find something that could help him scale over the walls that kept him from his love. He finally decided to climb the old, oak tree, despite it being old and Toris not being a very good climber.

Ah! What did it matter? Love would help him conquer the tree.

Some minutes later found the young man in Love still slowly trying to climb the tree. Apparently Love hadn't quite gotten the message that it was supposed to assist in the conquering of trees. Finally Toris made it up the dastardly obstacle that dared to try and keep him from his true love, only to nearly fall out of it from surprise at finding the tree occupied by his slave, Gilbert.

Grabbing as firm a handhold as he could, Toris gave a confused, "W-what are you doing in this tree?"

Gilbert gave a firm gesture of "SILENCE!" with his hand and then pointed to the ground. Toris looked and spotted his family's slave punisher Elizabeta (looking both terrifying and arousing in her all leather outfit with metal studs placed here and there and her frying pan clutched tightly in her gloved hands) turning her head about as she looked for someone. Toris gave Gilbert a suffering glance immediately knowing that the person Elizabeta was looking for was his companion in the tree. Gilbert just gave a devil-may-care grin and shrugged before whispering, "Can't help it if the she-male likes my five meters so much." Then Gilbert's look turned questioning, "What are you doing in this old tree? You suck at climbing them."

Toris gave a small, sad sound and nodded towards the House of Flesh, "There's a girl in there… I've only seen her from afar, but I know what I feel for her is Love, Gilbert. She stirs in my veins and I can't imagine a life without her. I don't want to imagine a life without her."

Gilbert's face looked shocked, "You, a gentleman in the House of Braginsky in love with a common whore? What will the neighbors say?"

"Is it that bad," Toris asked sheepishly.

Gilbert shrugged, "Well it's not usually something considered an accomplishment. Have you tried, you know, choking the chicken? Using a bit of old Rosie Palm and her five sisters to see if you can stir this girl outta your veins?"

Toris looked horrified and embarrassed, "G-Gilbert! No! T-that's not… I would… how could you suggest something like that?! What I feel is no base lust! My heart beats for her, my dreams are filled with her, and my mind is fixated on her; my lungs fill not with air but with dreadful need for her."

Gilbert gave another abrupt motion of his hand to cut off anymore poetic ramblings of The Girl. God his wimp of a master was taken with this chick. Bonnefoy could probably swindle the kid for everything in the Braginsky household if he promised her to the idiot. Wait… everything his master had… all for this girl…

His eyes took on a fiendish glint and Gilbert asked, "Do you love that girl? Truly?"

Toris nodded.

"Would you do anything to get her?" Gilbert continued.

Toris nodded vigorously.

"And if someone else could get her for you—as you can't get her yourself seeing as how you still live under your dear aunt's roof and thus have no legal ability to purchase ladies of the night—what would you give that someone else?"

Toris sighed, "All that I own along with my eternal gratitude."

Gilbert scoffed, "Ha! Your eternal gratitude! That'll buy bread for the table alright! And all you own? Most of what you own is actually your aunt's… except for me. And I want ME!"

Toris looked confused, so Gilbert pressed on with his tempting offer.

"If I get you that girl to be yours," Gilbert paused to make sure Toris was listening, "then you have to give me my freedom."

Toris seemed to pale and balk at the ultimatum for a few heartbeats before his eyes, filled with longing and need, strayed once again to the house where his beloved dwelled. His eyes steeled and he said, "Gilbert, get me my love, and you will be free."

Gilbert gave a triumph smirk and jumped from the tree onto the ground and called up, "Come then master! We must be off! I have a plan to secure your lady love and my freedom! Let's go!"

And with that Gilbert began to march off… only to be stopped by a pathetic whimper of "But I can't get down!" Looking up, Gilbert saw that his brave, heroic master was stuck. In an old, not very high tree.

"And this folks," Gilbert said with a tired sigh as he went about trying to help his master out of the dastardly and deadly vegetation, "is the hero of the story that I have to get a princess for. God pity me."

~~~~~~~~~~~CHANGE~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Francis Bonnefoy was a man of simple pleasures. He simply enjoyed being surrounded by young men and women all trained to be the best of the best in the subject of l 'amour and he simply loved being able to bath in money if he chose to.

See? Very simple man.

So his ears were very well-tuned to the lovely "jingle-jingle" of a full gold pouch.

Drifting over to his front door he caught sight of (what was to become) the pale-haired man of his nightmares…

"Whatever can I do for you my friends?" Francis began, "Are you here to schedule an evening's entertainment for one, or an orgy for a few lucky some? Whatever you need, Bonnefoy's House of Pleasures will be that. Indeed."

Gilbert snorted and said, "Nah, see, I apparently had a rich uncle who just tragically met his end, but happily gave me enough inheritance to buy my freedom this morning… along with one little indulgence."

The Frenchman leaned in forward and whispered, "A little indulgence?"

Gilbert threw an arm around the French pimp, gave a cheeky smirk and whispered, "One… little… wife. You know, to ease the loneliness of my… soul."

And with that and a wink, Francis heard the happy clamor of money to be put into his pocket.

Ushering the albino in, Francis noticed the second, shaking man with the confident albino. Francis jerked his thumb at the terrified, shy youth and asked, "Who's the shaking kid?"

Gilbert rolled his eyes and said, "My old master. The poor kid has only had some old magazines to keep him going and I thought I'd throw him a bone and 'broaden' his education."

Francis gave a smile and hurried over to the young gullible—harrumph ah, young gentleman, and said, "Don't worry young sir. My ladies and gentlemen of the night never bite… unless you want them too."

With that, the two were given comfortable chairs to sit in; food and drink, and the "show" began.

Francis called out, "My first young lady, Lin-Lin of China: the dancer whose delightful bells spellbound men everywhere!"

A graceful dancer stepped out from behind a curtain and began to teasingly dance for the two men. Swaying back and forth, the little bells on her ankles and feet twinkled and rang with each seductive move. Her beautiful black hair was pulled into two buns on her head and her dark eyes glowed on her pale face. She wore a simple red, Chinese-style dress with no sleeves that went down to the floor, and with every moment she made, her slender arms swayed through the air and her ivory legs peaked out from the dress, teasing at what pleasures could be expected if a man would be so lucky as to touch the smooth skin. She danced closer and closer until finally she was close enough that Gilbert could smell the delicate fragrance of jasmine that clung to her lithe, tantalizing body. He gave a quick glance to Toris, giving a small head nod to silently ask, "Is this the girl?"

Toris, enraptured by the dance, snapped back to reality and gave a shy shake, "no."

Gilbert gave a slightly shaky (it was a very NICE dance) to Francis and said, "She's a little noisy…"

The French man nodded in understanding and waved a dismissal to Lin-Lin. If the young woman was upset by the dismissal, she hid her sadness well. Immediately she danced over to Toris, and plopped onto Toris' lap. The man would have given a small shout, if Lin-Lin had not then raised one of those shapely ivory legs right in front of his face, causing her dress to slip dangerously low and her ankle-bracelet to jingle merrily. Any air that had been in Toris' lungs vanished in a strained whimper at the sight… and blood began to relocate in the south.

The Chinese dancer gave the brown-haired youth a predatory smile. The young, inexperienced ones were always the best to tease, and the best tippers.

Francis called out a second time, "Ilona, the wild Viking woman of Denmark… will you be the one to tame this magnificent woman?"

This time a shout of laughter came from behind the curtain before the woman stepped out. Her outfit was… unusual. The top looked like a strapless bikini and the bottom was a small, mini-skirt and it was all made from animal skins. On her feet, she wore stiletto, high-heeled, black leather boots that laced up to her knees. She carried with her a large, battle-ax and for a moment Gilbert wondered if Francis was going to murder them and take their money… until Ilona slammed her weapon into the ground and began to use the long hilt of the weapon as a makeshift pole to dance on. Where Lin-Lin's performance had been erotic grace and hinted pleasures, Ilona's dance was blatantly sexual. Every move around the pole was designed to drive a man wild as he imagined himself to be the ax. After a few minutes of making her audience insanely jealous of an inanimate object, she left it behind and strutted towards Gilbert with a hearty laugh. When she was close enough, she kicked her leg up and brought it down on the chair to rest between Gilbert's parted legs. After a few seconds (Gilbert had to appreciate the fine craftsmanship of the leather boot with the strictest of diligence), Gilbert once again gave a look to his master.

Toris, looking even paler than Gilbert, gave a shake.

Gilbert cleared his throat and pulled at the collar of his shirt—somehow it had gotten pretty hot in the room—and said, "I-I had hoped to live through my awesome wedding night. She seems a little too wild for the awesome me."

Francis gave an unhappy nod and dismissed Ilona. The Viking seemed less upset than Lin-Lin and happily strutted over to Toris. Upon arriving, she placed herself firmly on Toris' right-side (nudging an unhappy Lin-Lin out of her place), gave a frighteningly manic grin, and grabbed Toris' hand… to place on her breast.

Toris, caught between the teasing tinkling of bells from Lin-Lin and the savage sexuality of Ilona, was beginning to think that he might possibly be in over his head.

Francis called out a third time, "From the lovely boot of Italy… the Gemini! These twins are both sugar and spice… and will always make your evenings nice."

From behind a curtain stepped a set of twins. In unison the two began to weave around the room. Their hair was a lovely shade of reddish-brown and they seemed to perfectly match each other. One gave a sweet, innocent smile and the other gave a saucy smirk. One would raise her right hand in the dance at the same time as the other raised her left. They were perfect mirror images of each other dancing in flowing pastel garments that seemed to billow as they danced and created a dreamlike, hypnotic atmosphere. Softly the twirled together, weaving in and out, making it impossible to remember where one began and the other ended. They floated closer and closer, circling the two men like seductive sharks. Gilbert didn't mind being their prey.

(Unbeknownst to him, Francis checked his pulse and seemed to be satisfied at the results.)

The dance ended in front of Gilbert, and breathless he made a noise at Toris. Toris, dizzy from the dance and the two women in his lap, croaked out, "no…"

Gilbert looked sadly at Francis, "I am a man of limited means. I could only afford one, and I doubt you would break up a set?"

Francis gave a frustrated sigh and said, "No… they have to be together…"

Gilbert, regaining some of his old awesome, said, "Great… let's keep looking then shall we!"

And the twins were dismissed… to immediately go and add to Toris' delightful torment of beauties. Seeing the front side was rather crowded, the two went behind the young man to giggle into his ear and play with his hair. Toris was beginning to wonder how he had enough blood to turn the cherry red he could feel his face becoming when so much of it had gone south.

Francis, showing signs of irritation and frustration, called out with some strain, "My fourth girl is Helena of Greece! This goddess is named after the famous Helen of Troy, and with a body that has inspired many artists to carve statues of her, the name is well-deserved."

The curtains slid back to reveal a body lying on a bed. Slowly the form rose and stretched. While the other girls had danced over to their audience, Helena seemed to prefer to stretch her body like a cat. Every movement, every turn and twist, showed the supple body underneath the sheer sheets. The sheets flowed off her body like a reluctant lover and gave an almost strip-tease like impression to the woman's motion. After what felt like only a moment, the woman was done in her stretching ritual. She fixed her green, hazy eyes on the men while her lips slid into a lazy smirk. She wasted no energy on dancing from her bed, instead she strolled over to where they were sitting, and as she walked, the very last sheet that had clung jealously to her body at last lost its grip and fell abandoned on the floor. Her clothes were minimal, only a loose green robe that complimented her eyes and her chocolate brown hair, carelessly tied in the front and stopping just at mid-thigh. As she got closer, her energy seemed to fail her and she gracefully fell onto Gilbert's lap. From her new position, she gave the albino a smile that Gilbert just knew was the same smile she'd have after her appetite was satisfied in the bedroom.

Francis cleared his throat, startling Gilbert from his daydreaming state. When the light-headed albino looked at him, Francis gave a hand gesture that said, "Well? What are you waiting for? She can be yours if you just pay the right price."

Gilbert looked with desperate eyes at his master. Toris, having been caged almost completely be the women, sent back sad eyes and made a sound like a little frog dying. Gilbert deflated; yet another no.

Racking his brain, Gilbert stood up and had the catlike woman stand too. He gave a whistle trying to stall for time so he could "find" some problem with the woman. Pinching here, poking there, looking in her ear to check her earwax… the Grecian must have sent Francis a distraught look because the Frenchman called out unhappily, "What are you doing?! Stop poking my girls; I'll not have you bruising them! Do you know how much make-up it requires to hide any blemish on their bodies?!"

Gilbert, still trying to find a reason to dismiss Helena, cried out, "STATUES!"

Francis was now very sure he was dealing with a mad man, "Statues?"

Gilbert clapped his hands and gave a careless shrug, "You said there were tons of statues made to look like her right?"

Francis slowly nodded, still confused.

Gilbert gave the woman a hearty slap on the ass—forcing her to suppress a yelp and a glare, no matter how rude the albino was you never showed discontent while working—and sighed with deep regret, "Can't have that. What kind of man would I be if I married a woman that has statues of her all over the world where different pervs can see her? Nope. I can take her 'knowing' some guys here in Heta-Heta, but I won't have men in freaking Unawesome Town, Timbuktu looking at my woman." With that he dismissed the woman.

For her part, Helena was glad to not have to go with the white-haired ass. She didn't like him. Spying the youth, she happily strolled over to him and shoved Lin-Lin into the middle so she could recline on the boy's left side. He seemed nice and snuggly… maybe she could get back to the lovely nap she was having before all this commotion started.

Toris for his part was torn between terror and youthful exuberance. He didn't know how much more of this he could take! Anymore girls and he might very well drown under them all! While a small part of him thought that drowning in beautiful women was not the worse way to go, Toris was determined to at least know his beloved's name before he died. His spirits, which had been flagging—although other things had been rising—, soared as determination filled his core! His eyes hardened, his chest puffed out, and his hands clenched into fists… or his hands would have if his right hand wasn't still happily perched on the Danish woman's breast. His forgotten hand accidentally squeezed her luscious breast when he became filled with determination. He gave a squeak when he heard her breathy moan.

(The women all chuckled at how red and cute the brunet was. They really did like the younger, shy customers.)

Never noticing the drama behind them, Francis pulled out his last beauty. He cried out, "Fine! Since you have scorned all my other flowers, this is my last one… reject her at your peril. I give you Mathilde, the Canadian Pearl!"

The curtains drew back, to show Mathilde standing in the middle of her "room." A simple, gentle smile played across her lips. Her eyes were a beautiful lavender-blue mix and her hair was a cascade of gentle golden waves falling to mid-back. She wore a red blouse that was fitted perfectly to her body; the neckline cut into a deep circle, showing off her shapely shoulders and giving her a look of modesty even as the circle came low in the front. On her lower half she wore a simple, pleated white skirt. Her legs were bare underneath the skirt, and upon her small feet were dainty red sandals.

She stood still, a picture of subtle strength and demure dignity. Gilbert faintly wondered how she managed to look as fragile as a china doll and as enduring as the mountains.

He loved her.

In a rush, he called out, "Maple! Maple moose hockey, eh maple!"

Both Francis and Mathilde were taken aback, and Toris wondered why Gilbert had suddenly lost his mind. A cry rang in the air as the girl sprang forward into Gilbert's wide-spread arms. "Maple hockey," she cried with happiness and disbelief, "Moose goose eh, maple-maple?!"

Francis stared in shock. "You can speak Canadian!" He cried.

Gilbert, eyes lost in the beautiful depths of Mathilde's dazzling gaze, mumbled, "My old nanny… she was Canadian and taught me how to speak it…" His voice trailed off as his face grew closer to hers. She reciprocated and soon their faces were close. Their noses touched and they breathed each other in, becoming intoxicated on the smell and the feel of the other. Body to body, their heartbeats fluttering to match the other and both knew they would never feel this close to anyone else ever again. Never would there be someone else that fit so perfectly in their arms, all others would feel cold and hard like rocks after this perfect meeting. The world had shrunk and all that was or ever would be was them. The two soul-mates began to lean the last, little distance forward, to seal their love in a kiss—only for Gilbert to be lurched backwards by a hand on his collar.

The shock of being torn from his Canadian brought him back to the unhappy world of reality. The horrid hand belonged to Toris who was furious. They were not here for Gilbert to canoodle with his dream girl! They were here for Toris to canoodle with his dream girl!

Toris hissed to Gilbert, "That's not her!"

Gilbert whined, "But yours isn't here. This was the last one so let's take her instead!"

Toris grabbed the money pouch from Gilbert. "No," he cried, "mine is here and we're going to get her!"

Gilbert grabbed the money back, "No! We're getting Birdie."

The exclamation confused Toris and he shouted, "WHO'S BIRDIE?!"

Gilbert nodded to Mathilde, "She is. It's my nickname for her."

Mathilde gave a happy wave.

Toris stared dumbfounded. "You can't give her a nickname after only knowing her for about a minute!"

Gilbert crossed his arms and sneered, "Course I can. 'S a good nickname for her."

Toris wasn't having it, "No, no you can't and it's not even a good nickname for her. She already has a nickname… she's the pearl!" The implied "you asshole" wasn't said aloud.

Gilbert scoffed and said, "Bah! The pearl is her slave nickname! She's Birdie. Just like I am Awesome McAwesomepants the Awesomest."

Toris' head hurt from the amount of stupid he just listened to. "That," he ground out from clenched teeth and twitching facial muscles, "is not nor will it ever be your nickname. One, because it is a horrible nickname—"

"Name one thing wrong with it!"

"You can't have a nickname that is longer than your actual name by eight syllables. That's NOT how nicknames work, you idiot!"

Gilbert's eyes squinted and he hissed, "Them's pretty big fighting words from a little man who couldn't get out of a tree by himself."

Before Toris could refute the claim—the tree in question was obviously cursed or something and therefore could not be used against him—a loud bang brought their attention back to a displeased French pimp. "Now that I finally have your attention back," he began slowly, "I need to know: are you buying or not?"

"No!" "Yes!"

The master and slave glared at each other. Francis just shook his head. "I might have known," he sighed. "You both are window-shoppers," the word was practically spat by the unhappy Frenchman, "we're done here. Please leave the way you came out and don't touch the girls! I don't want to have to do too much cleaning." He signaled his guards to get the men out.

As they were being pushed out, Toris happened to look up, and see her. With a quick movement, he grabbed Gilbert and pointed up. "That's her," he cried, "that's the girl of my heart!"

Gilbert jerked from the guards and called out to Francis, "WAIT JUST A MINUTE FRENCHIE! Did I not just spy with my awesome eye, a figure of perfect beauty! Golden hair, eyes the color of the sky and skin kissed by the sun… why did you not show her to me earlier."

Francis blinked and looked to where the albino was pointing and said, "Ah, Alfreda—"

("Alfreda," Toris quietly sighed in reverence. He finally had a name for his angel.)

"—She's already been sold as a bride to someone else. A high-ranking general wants a lovely virgin bride so I provide." The last was said with an indifferent shrug.

Toris' glee at learning Alfreda's name turned into dark despair and anguish. His voice, strangled with hope destroyed, stuttered out, "D-does that m-mean you can't g-give her t-to m-me? She'll b-be a-another man's w-wife?"

Francis looked at the brunet with a glance that managed to say "why must I deal with such very, very stupid people," and drawled, "Well… I suppose I could cut her in half and sell you both half a woman, but that usually doesn't go over well with clients."

Toris, unaffected by the sarcasm, dazedly said, "There is nothing now… no light, no hope, no happiness… I must go kill myself. Good day."

Gilbert quickly grabbed the over-dramatic and melancholic man; he still needed the idiot alive so he could have his freedom. Thinking as fast as he could, he came up with a plan that might just work…

Gilbert said, "Ah she looks in good health, where is she from might I ask?" (Sounding like some old time Victorian prick always made you sound smarter in Gilbert's mind.)

"She is from the land of America," Francis replied. Giving the girl a fond look, he said, "She really is a picture of loveliness, no?" He looked to Gilbert for agreement, but was surprised to see a look of absolute horror on the man's face instead. "What's wrong," Francis asked, concerned.

"From America… Poor girl… I can only hope the general is kind to her before her, ah…" Gilbert muttered in horror and pity before breaking off and looking away as if the very act of speaking had caused him great pain.

Now Francis was greatly alarmed. He rushed over to Gilbert and grabbed the albino's shoulders. Getting close, he whispered, "What? What is it, Gilbert? My friend, speak and tell me what is wrong with my virgin!" He needed that girl! The general had paid big bucks for her!

Gilbert gave a deep sigh and said, reluctantly, "Alright… the fact is… the Picts were sighted landing in America. The entire place has been turned into those non-awesome aliens! Everyone who gets too close to Americans now become… well you know."

Francis gulped. Those horrible aliens who turned everything from color into white and turned people into horrible, freakish monsters with no face! Quickly he stuttered, "B-but the girl is healthy! She goes around smiling and carefree!"

Gilbert just shook his head sadly, "That's a bad sign. The newest form of the Pictonian plague is that you become all smiley and carefree and then boom! You're a Pictonian."

Francis was now terrified beyond words, "What shall I do? Is it contagious?"

Gilbert rolled his eyes, "You know those damn Pict… have you ever heard of them having a NON-contagious form of turning?"

Francis started walking around in circles, agitated and scared, "What am I going to do? The other girls could get infected, I could get infected… but what about the general?!"

Gilbert grabbed hold of Francis and slapped him.

Francis stopped and stared, "Why did you slap me? How could slapping me have helped?! THAT HURT YOU ASSHOLE!"

Gilbert brushed over the Frenchman's anger, "Yeah, yeah, sorry or whatever, look. Give her to me. I've already had a form of the Pictonian plague and can remain immune. The house next door where I live is basically empty so it won't endanger anyone. I'll try to keep her from being turned into a Pictonian as long as I can so you can explain things to the general when he gets here. Okay? Awesome, right?"

Francis thought for a second before nodding. "Yes," he said, "that's a good plan. Just try to keep her not-Pictonian for about an hour. That's when the general should be arriving." Francis clasped Gilbert on the shoulder and drew him in for a hug. "You're a true friend, Gilbert. I'll remember this happy favor."

Gilbert returned the hug and said, "No problem. It's what makes me awesome." Pause. "But you CAN take your hand off my ass. It's not going anywhere."

Francis broke away and said, "I'll go get the girl. Wait here." He then scurried away.

Toris looked at Gilbert with sadness and fear, "I can't believe she has the Pictonian plague… what a cruel world to strike down such a splendid creature as my beloved Alfreda."

Gilbert looked at Toris with exasperation, "She's not sick… God, why I am surrounded by such unawesome people? First Roderich of the Stick-Shoved-Up-Ass Clan, then the she-male in her fetish leather, and now you? You people just… ugh! No, I said she was sick so we can get her back to our house, you two make nice and fall in love while I get some kind of getaway car for you two. We tell Francis that she turned, and we had to dispose of the body to keep the contamination from spreading so he doesn't try to find you. Then you two skip out on town to go get married and do the whole 2.5 kids and white fence and dog or whatever, and I get my freedom. Got it?"

Toris' face lit up like a kid at Christmas. "You're brilliant," he breathed happily.

Gilbert just humbly nodded as Francis came back pushing Alfreda in front of him with a stick. He was hissing, "No! No, don't touch anything! I don't want you spreading your germs everywhere, get! GO!" He arrived at the other two men and handed them his stick to prod Alfreda with. "Good luck gentlemen, I wish you all the best."

Gilbert nodded as Toris began to (gently) prod a very confused Alfreda out the door. Together the two made their way down the street while people stopped and stared at the strange sight they made.

Before going in his house, Gilbert stopped and looked up at one of the windows on Bonnefoy's second floor. His heart lurched in his chest as he saw his Birdie standing there, hands pressed to the glass, and face filled with confusion, fear, and sadness. He mouthed at her words of comfort in Canadian. Seeing him speak Canadian for her brought a smile to the sad face. The Canadian woman looked at the pale man who had stolen her heart one last time before leaving the window.

Gilbert blinked back tears as he watched her disappear. 'Don't worry Birdie," he called to her in his thoughts, "I'll get this mess sorted out and get my freedom. And then I will get you yours, and we'll be free and together forever. I promise. Just wait for me, Birdie. I won't lose!"

With that silent vow, Gilbert rushed off to find a way to get Toris and his girl out of the city.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~END~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And this folks, is chapter one. It is 23 pages long on Microsoft Word and over 7,200 words long. However, I think the whole story will only need to be three chapters long. I'm changing some things, and having fun with the characters, but the same plot is going to be here for those of you who know the musical. A big shout out to three great writers on : Ficfan3484, Urchin of the Riding Stars, and Evilpyecat1987. These writers are the bomb-diggity! Check out their work. None of you will be disappointed. I know I never am when I read their stuff.

Just a quick side-note… expect to see more regular updates from me now that I am back to a normal schedule and can plot out time in my day to work on writing. So for those of you who are fans of my other work (like "Love Magic Madness" or "Here Comes the Bride"), you should be seeing updates!

Please Read and Review!

Much Love,

91REDROSES