Wallace's Trial
A fan fiction by Kate-chan 91
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Wallace and Gromit or the Black Adder episode "The Witchsmeller Persuviant."
Kate-chan 91's tidbits (A/N): For those wondering whether I actually had another Wallace and Gromit fanfic idea, here's your proof. Also, if you're still wondering, all reviewers will still receive toast and I will still only accept positive and constructive flame reviews.
Enjoy!
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One morning in early April, Wallace woke up to find that his beloved canine friend Gromit was nowhere to be found. Vividly remembering the time Gromit fell down the stairs and broke two legs and his hip, the inventor hurried towards the staircase in his robe and pajamas, worrying that the event repeated itself. As soon as he reached the stairs, he looked down, fearing the worst; what he found was a mixed blessing: Gromit wasn't unconscious at the bottom of the stairs, but that was only because he wasn't present. Panicking, Wallace ran around the house searching high and low to find the dog that doubled as his pet and partner.
As he was doing this, however, the inventor heard a knock on the front door. Looking at the clock on the wall and then walking towards the door, Wallace said to himself, "Now I wonder who wants to visit this early in the day?"
As it turns out, the visitor was the local vicar, an old man with a puffy, white hairstyle and somewhat maniac manner.
"Well good morning, sir!" Wallace greeted him with. "Having a lovely day, per chance?"
"Why, yes, my child," he replied, "but I have come with some… grave news."
"Grave?" Wallace gulped as images of Gromit undergoing multiple forms of torture flashed through his mind; part of these thoughts came true when the vicar replied:
"Yes… and it's about your dog, Mister Wallace."
Wallace gasped. "Oh dear! What happened to Gromit?" He asked urgently as he mentally thought of which grisly event came true.
The Vicar answered, "As I was walking to the church this morning, I saw what appeared to be a stray dog being captured by the dogcatcher, Mister Darby. When I got closer, however, I noticed that the dog seemed very familiar. Then I realized that the dog I saw was yours, so I ran towards your residence… and here I am."
As he thought about what Mister Darby was to do with Gromit, Wallace quickly said, "May you wait for me for a moment? I need to get dressed before I rescue Gromit from the pound…"
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Ten minutes later, Wallace and the Vicar were driving to the pound in the inventor's A35. They were about halfway to the pound when the vicar said:
"Stop here!"
"We can't stop now! Gromit must be waiting for me to pick him up!"
"Please… just turn back now! I need to do something at the church…" The Vicar paused for a second before continuing with "…for Gromit!"
SCREECH! Wallace put the automobile in reverse and pulled over by the church; the Vicar then walked towards the front entrance of the church, while Wallace did the opposite- he ran.
Once the inventor opened the doors, however, he was greeted by a good percentage of his neighbors. Also present was several of his good friends throughout the years: Lady Tottington, Hutch the genetically altered rabbit, Wendolene Ramsbottom, and Shaun the sheep.
"By heck… does everyone want to wish me good luck?" Wallace asked to himself in his normal speaking voice.
The Vicar replied, "Yes, Mister Wallace! In fact, we've wanted to make you feel very comfortable, so a very special chair has been placed on the altar for you!
As it turns out, the chair seemed to resemble an American electric chair that lacked anything that produced… electricity. Situated on the actual seat was Wallace's favorite food—
"CHEESE!" the cheese-loving inventor cried with joy as he ran towards the chair; he grabbed the golden-colored dairy product and was just about to eat it when he stated, "Wait a minute… where are the crackers? You simply can't forget the crackers!"
"Oh, forgive me for that!" the Vicar replied. "How about you sit down and let me take care of it?"
What the old man told the middle aged inventor turned out to be a fallacy, as the Vicar strapped Wallace's arms to the armrests with leather belts instead of fetching some crackers.
Wallace was flabbergasted. "What the—What the—What is going on?"
Some people were reorganizing themselves into crudely constructed jury stands as the Vicar responded with "Mister Wallace, you're been accused of witchcraft and being in legions with the devil himself. How do you plead: guilty or-"
"Not guilty, of course, sir!" The bound inventor cried. "I'm just a simple law-obeying citizen that goes to church… when he doesn't oversleep, that is!"
"Well then… if you want to confirm your innocence," the old Vicar replied, "then answer my questions as honestly as possible. If the jury finds you are telling the truth, you may go get Gromit. If the jury believes you are lying or guilty, however… you'll be put… to death!"
Wallace gulped. "Death?" he weakly repeated.
"Yes, death!" the Vicar nodded and replied; he then continued with: "Now, Mister Wallace, is it true that before you adopted Gromit, you had a cat named Beezus?"
"Yes… but it was actually my parents'."
"Did you have to feed it?"
"Well, me father did make me feed her a couple of times when I was a child."
"What did you feed her, then?"
Wallace started to get real annoyed at this. "Milk," he divulged in a low voice.
"Pardon me, what was that? I couldn't hear you!"
"Milk," Wallace repeated in a voice closer to his normal one.
"May you say that again?"
"MILK!" Wallace boomed. "I FED BEEZUS BLOODY MILK!"
"BLOODY MILK!" the Vicar cried out to the appalled audience. "HE FED MILK MIXED WITH BLOOD TO THE CAT!"
"He is mad, I tell youse!" cried Missus Mulch among the sea of screams that rang out; it wasn't until PC Mackintosh, the local patrol officer, managed to silence the crowd ten minutes later afterward that the odd trial resumed.
"Alright, Mister Wallace," the Vicar asked, "You are an inventor, correct?"
"Yes, sir!"
"While we are aware you used several of those contraptions for humanely capturing rabbits, did you ever experiment on them?"
"Experiment? Well, only once, to tell you the truth, but I only did it so the rabbits would not destroy more vegetables. I did change them back to their little bunny selves after the vegetable competition, though."
"During these… 'experiments,' did you cause them to talk? Also, did these experiments use black magic?"
"Well, there was no magic, but-"
"But what? Did you really create mutated rabbits?"
"Um, about that-"
"Your Ladyship!" the Vicar interrupted. "Please do bring the rabbit I asked you to come with to me!"
Reluctantly, Lady Tottington carried Hutch to the vicar. Tears were streaming down her face as she did this.
"And now, I shall present you proof of his experiment that make rabbits walk and talk like people! Speak, little creature!"
As the Vicar placed a block of cheese in front of his face, the once sleeping rabbit started to wake up from the 'oohs' and 'ahs' in the church. The very minute his nostrils detected the aroma of cheddar cheese, however, he screamed with naïve glee "CHEESE!"
Almost everyone started shrieking in panic and terror. Some even fainted. PC Mackintosh has to once again calm down the crowd so the trial could continue.
The Vicar cleared his throat before continuing with the final question that was to be asked in that trial.
"Finally, Mister Wallace," he asked, "Were you affiliated in any way with the were-rabbit that terrorized us last September?"
Silence crept as Wallace tried to think about how he could cover up the fact that he was that gigantic rabbit monster.
"Do you have an answer, Mister Wallace?"
After frantically pondering over possible excuses, Wallace got his head out of the clouds and stuttered, "I did not create the were-rabbit in those 'experimen-'"
Which means that he created the were-rabbit beforehand so he could wreak havoc on our vegetables after he gained our trust!" The Vicar yelled.
Even more witnesses to the trial immediately fainted at the thought of this. The jurors, on the other hand, barely managed to avoid doing so as they were entrusted with the task of evaluating the inventor's answers; it took them almost three minutes to come up with a verdict.
"After careful analysis," Mister Dibber announced not long afterwards, "we have found Mister Wallace guilty of all charges."
"Very well then… he will be sentenced to death by fire at the stake!"
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It was about four in the afternoon when the stake was mounted by the graveyard. As Wallace was tied to the pole, waiting for the grim reaper to come, both Wendolene and Lady Tottington came to say their goodbyes to the condemned inventor; Wendolene arrived first.
"Wendolene!" said Wallace. "It's been a while since we last saw each other, hasn't it?"
"Yes," she said, "Yes it has."
"Has Preston been operating properly?"
Wendolene nodded slowly. "It's awful to know that you're going to die soon, though. You were the last person I know that would be going through this."
"True, true, especially since I know that I've been mistried and will never see Gromit again."
Wendolene sighed sadly and looked at her watch. "Well, it seems that I have to go now. Goodbye… Chuck."
Lady Tottington arrived not long after Wendolene left the death site to be. As she started to cry and said her goodbye, she handed him a little doll that was constructed of fabric and yarn. Strangely enough, it resembled a crude version of Victor Quartermaine.
"Why are you giving this to me? He asked as he held it.
"It's a trouble doll that Victor got while he was hunting in the Americas. If you use it in some way, it's supposed to take your worries away or something like that." She explained.
The two people then heard the crowd of spectators demanding that the inventor should be burning to death or else a riot would ensue.
"It was great to know you Wallace! I will truly miss you!" was the last thing the grieving woman told him before she left to her seat in front of the stake.
The Vicar came up to him. "Are you ready?"
Wallace responded with a slow nod of the head and a sad face.
As the Vicar took out a match, he called out to the crowd:
"And now this man, guilty of witchcraft and being involved with the devil, shall be burned at the stake and meet his end. This damned man will then be not only in Hell where he belongs, but also away from us!"
And with that, the Vicar lit the match and threw it onto the hay at the base of the stake. The hay started to smoke and little yellow and orange flames started to poke out and spread. Wallace dropped the doll into the fire as it started to penetrate the wood.
"Are you scared, my child? The Vicar asked the whimpering Wallace.
"Yes!"
"You shouldn't be… do you know what today is?"
Wallace shook his head.
"Today is… APRIL FOOL'S!" The Vicar started laughing upon saying this statement to the shocked inventor. When he was done, he yelled, "Okay, let's douse this fire and give him an apology and Gromit!"
Without delay, the fire was extinguished, a collared and shaken Gromit and half-hearted apology was handed over to Wallace, and an angry and unimpressed Wallace and Lady Totting drove to Tottington Hall to relax and get away from the town for a while. While they had a high tea (complete with Wensleydale cheese and crackers) there that day, they did not watch the evening news, which announced that Victor Quartermaine was in the hospital being treated for severe burns; the strange thing about the burns was that the cause was under unknown circumstances…
THE END
A/N: So… did you enjoy it? Please do tell me!
Also, before you go, I would like to say thank you for reading this fanfic. Because of this, I would like to reveal a little fun fact to y'all: this fanfic was originally supposed to be called The Lancashire Witch Trial in response to the fact Nick Park based the series location on north England architecture and the like as he was from around Lancashire.
Well, until next time, I wish you a good day!
Ja Ne!
Kate-chan 91
(PS- Every Dog Has Its Day has reached 1,000 hits! Thanks to everyone that helped accomplish this! (Throws toast to those readers))