Disclaimer: I do not own Alice in Wonderland! If I did the Knave would have been naked... .

Author's Note: Inspired by one of my insanely fabulous conversations with marvelouslymad! ^_^ Be warned! For this fic contains; silliness, boomboxes, and giant pole. Oh my! :o

Title: Weapon of Choice

Summary: The Mad Hatter must save the day and the innocence of the court ladies from a revenge-seeking Knave. A stripping Knave, that is, who also comes bearing a magical box of booming noise as a weapon...

Genre: Crack/Humor

Type: Oneshot

Rating: T for A LOT of sexual innuendos and implied pairings. .

Weapon of Choice

Countless and blurred months have passed since the banishment of the Red Queen and her deceitful Knave. Peace and the champion known simply as 'Alice' have long since returned, and Tarrant Hightopp couldn't have been a happier hatter if he tried. Along with all of this came the rebuilding of his home-village in Witzend, even the great pole once used for fabulous celebrations had been reconstructed in the Hightopp clan's honor. However... Something had been bothering the Mad Hatter the past few days, something that kept him up long hours into the night as he cocked his ears to listen to the surrounding darkness.

It had started small at first, so insignificant that Tarrant had not even taken notice, but as the days went on it so did the absurdity of it all. First, it had been mysterious footprints leaving trails in his precious gardens, as if purposely stepping on each of his flowers and tea leaves. Next came the thrown mud onto the massive pole, all of having dried by the time he awoke in the morning. Some of it had even been written into obscene messages that Tarrant would dare not repeat, but always left him grumbling the word "blasphemy" as he scrubbed away the filth. Strange sounds of what could only be music soon followed as they were blared randomly into the night, causing him to stir and investigate. Each time he would only find nothing as his brogue came out in angry grumbles, stomping back to his bed as he cursed the terrible musician...

This activity would carry on until Mirana and her court decided to pay visit with Alice close in tow. The Mad Hatter more than welcomed this new distraction as he played host and shared laughs with his friends. So much fun he was having that he had even forgotten the still unknown nuisance as he slid into bed with only his unmentionables on. The drink and food sat warmly in his stomach as he drifted to sleep, not even thinking of the possibility of being disturbed that unforgettable night.

The party-goers had not even shut their for more than an hour when the blaring of noise returned, only louder and more closer this time around. Tarrant jerked within the sheets of his bed when hearing it, quickly turning to his window to see a tall, dark figure standing some distance near the great pole. Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he grabbed his pants, giving up on the rest of his clothes when they refused to meet his sight. He dressed himself with the stubborn garment as he ran, clutching the the waistband tightly as he exited outside.

Thankfully, it seemed that he had been the only one to have been awakened by the racket as it came to a short stop. The shadowy frame of the stranger leaned against the wooden shaft and appeared to examine his hands in boredom, as if mockingly waiting for Tarrant to reach him. This only caused more anger and confusion in the hatter as he hurried his steps, straightening his shoulders in a show of courage that was slightly deterred by the constant pulling up of his pants. A string of well chosen words and insults were on the tip of his tongue as he neared, about to unleash them until he took in the figure's full height and identity. The shock of this realization only lasted a moment until it gave way to an even greater rage, his eyes filling a bright amber.

"Yoo!," his brogue yelled out, one hand shooting to point an offensive finger. "What are ye doin' here, yoo gutless bag of overgrown bones? Ye ver banished!"

"Stating the obvious, like always, Hightopp?," the Knave said with a roll of the eye, completely ignoring the question as he crossed his arms. "And here I thought you would have grown some brains in my absence. If you really must know, I'm here to retake Underland... and my revenge."

The last words were drawn out in a arrogant purr as Stayne smirked in satisfaction. Tarrant let out a growl in return, readying his fists while still attempting to keep his trousers from sliding down too much.

"Draw yer weapon then!," he bellowed. The Knave gave out a chuckle, one that didn't bode well for the Mad Hatter as he answered,

"I already have..."

Stayne turned to a small object to his feet, picking up the strange, black box before pressing against its surface. Music began playing again, causing Tarrant to be even more baffled as the song's words rang into the air. He could only stand there dumbly as he listened...

"Sweat, baby, sweat. Baby, sex is a Texas drought. Me and you do the kind of stuff that only Prince would sing about. So put your hands down my pants, and I'll bet you'll feel nuts."

Questions began to race within the Mad Hatter's mind; what is a "texas"? What prince and what stuff does he sing about? More importantly, why was Ilosovic Stayne, the ex-Knave to the ex-Red Queen, carrying nuts in his pants? There were bags for that... Suddenly the Knave began to dance, rocking his hips in tune as he glided his hands down his muscled form. All of this caused Tarrant to become very awkward, shifting back and forth on his feet while attempting to look away, only to have his eyes return to the unholy sight. Panic then gripped him as the music from his rival's alien box began to play louder. The heavy beat of the scandalous, absurd and yet catchy song caused the earth around it reverberate and the lights of the houses surrounding to light up with attention. What was worse was the removal of clothes occurring before him as the seven foot something giant began to grind against the sacred hatter pole. The tired and curious voices of the ladies staying in the village floated to his ears crystal clear, despite the rising noise level. The need to protect their innocent psyches and eyes from this tainting event replaced all else at that moment.

Gripping his unfastened trousers tightly, Tarrant ran from house to house, closing windows and doors alike and even pushing back heads of the overly curious. To say the ladies were unhappy about this, was an understatement. Why he was even slapped by one before being told he was ruining the show. He was just nursing his throbbing cheek when Mirana's sleepy voice called to him from across the yard.

"Tarrant, what's going on?," she gasped, eyes entranced by the sight of the now shirtless Knave. Stayne turned to her in a purposely slow fashion, allowing her a better show of the flexing muscles of his abdomen before doing a strange thing with his upper chest. His pecs almost appeared to dance with him as he ran his gloved fingers through his hair. The bouncing man-nipples seemed to hypnotize Mirana as her mouth fell even more open. This caused Tarrant to spring into immediate action as he ran to her.

"My queen, NO!," he screamed, clutching tight to his clothes while trying not to trip. He finally reached her, successfully blocking her view with his frame until yet another known voice floated to his ears.

"What is everyone- Oh my!," Alice said from the guest house she was staying in on the other side of the yard. It was at this moment the music began to replay itself, and the Knave placed his attention on Alice before running his hands down his body. Giving his lips a seductive lick, he groped the junction between his legs before thrusting in an unmistakable way. He gave his hair a harsh tug, pulling it back while letting out a groan that made Alice's knees wobble. With a shocked squeak, Tarant began to make his way towards her, accidentally dropping his pants in his hurry. The treacherous clothing itself appeared to take its own revenge as it tripped him, entrapping his feet.

"Look away, Alice! Look away!," he yelled from the ground, as he freed himself. Just as he was about to "rescue" the champion, he threw his pants over Mirana's head in hopes of saving whatever of her innocence he could. The White Queen gave a small shriek at this, backing away as her hands tried to rid of the object that flew out of nowhere. Tarrant gave a rushed apology then as he ran, dread overtaking him when seeing the Knave already beginning to unbuckle his belt. He would never make it in time, he realized while watching the Knave's fingers pull back the fastenings. It was like an invisible pocket watch ticked away in his head with each thread removed. One that increased to a maddening pace when seeing that there was nothing beneath Stayne's leather trousers, not even a codpiece. There was only one thing he could do, Tarrant noted as he watched the black fabric begin to reveal the Knave's pale hips. Attack the source, and so he did.

With a battle cry, he tackled Stayne to the ground, beginning the sudden fight for dominance. Dirt and small rocks clung to their sweating forms as their straining muscles fought against one another. Neither paid attention to the questionable cheers that came from the watching ladies that stood near in their nightgowns. It was only when a screech through the air that they paused.

"Stayne!," the voice of who could only be Iracebeth rang through the forest near by. Ilosovic stopped in his wrestling, fear invading his expression as Tarrant stopped as well. "You better not be stripping against that pole again!"

"No, my lady!," he answered in a return shout. "I'm just looking for some tarts!"

Quickly, he grabbed his numerous clothes and box as Tarrant tried to capture him, unwilling to let the fugitive go without a fight. He nearly succeeded when he accidentally pulled the Knave's pants further down, although it wasn't him trying to do the arresting. For as he was rolling on the ground, blinded by the sight of Stayne's pale and luscious ass, the woman began to jump the Knave. With each attempt, he evaded with ease and didn't stop until he was just about to exit the village. Before he left, he blew kisses to Mirana and Alice that they returned with breathless sighs. He also gave Tarrant a mocking wink before finally leaving them in peace.

It was only then that the men of the court exited their beds, scratching at their hair with yawns as they looked at all of the giggling ladies. Their eyebrows only raised further when seeing the dirt-covered and nearly naked hatter. Many of them simply returned to their bed after this, muttering about how some people really shouldn't drink. As their snores drifted into the air, the ladies all packed into Mirana's specially given house after she declared an "emergency conference". Tarrant tried to follow, only be given a shake of the finger.

"Only women allowed," Mirana told him before grabbing Alice's hand. Alice gave the hatter a sympathetic look before giggling with the White Queen. The sounds of excited whispers and laughter could still be heard even after the door was shut. Tarrant let out a sad sigh before picking up his pants. How he wished to be invited to one of their sleepovers just once. It always had him on the brink of maddening curiosity when hearing their giggles and hushed moans.

'They're probably having the best tea party,' he whimsically thought. With a shake of the head, he turned to the now defiled pole as he grabbed a bucket of soapy water, preparing for a long night of cleaning and shudder-inducing mental images...

[END!]

Random Author's Note At The End: Hope it made at least some sense and that you enjoyed XD Remember to comment! :3

Also, I own no rights to the song "Bad Touch" by the Bloodhound Gang.

PS: For those wondering; Yes, the title is a reference to a different song by Fatboy Slim. I just love it so much (especially the music video featuring Christopher Walken *sighs before fanning self*) and it seemed to fit with the idea of the boombox being a weapon XD