Prince Peasley was both liked and unliked by the denizens of Bean Bean Kingdom. He was fawned over, certainly. His luxurious taste in clothes and style were recognized by all- among his perfect smile and hair that was never unkempt. He was the epitome of perfection. Girls would scream after him whenever he had a public affair to tend to. When he entered a room, he was the center of attention, all eyes on him. A perfect gentleman. And a perfect image of royalty.
But there were those, who did not think Peasley was a fitting image of royalty. There were those who thought he was a joke, only recognized as widely as he was because of his mother, the queen, who coddled him to no end. There were some who would watch the princeling strut around, surrounded by his little bodyguards, from the shadows, who would cringe and grind their teeth together, boiling in jealousy and rage. There were some who thought, they were a much better substitute for the sickeningly PERFECT little prince. They would rewrite the definition of perfection- rule the country in their own way, by their own rules.
One of those people who didn't like Peasley was now dead. The other, was assumed to have died as well.
But royalty, like assumptions, was never meant to last for long, as new rulers come and go, as do things we believe to be for certain.
What was certain, was that the other was not so dead, and was very much in fact alive, and unfortunately well. Was it a miracle from the Star Spirits? A curse from the Underwhere? A strange twist of fate? No one could ever be sure.
But one thing was sure, as the other thought-to-be-dead ex-citizen of the Bean Bean kingdom watched in dampered fury at the princeling who'd gotten the title he so rightfully deserved, was that revenge was a good assumption.
Peasley had been quite tired and was ready to turn in for the night. It'd been a long day, and a lot of work still needed to be done to make repairs to the castle's town as well as other areas of the Bean Bean Kingdom. After the attack from that witch and her despicable underhanded assistant, they'd left behind quite the mess for him and his mother to deal with. It didn't look good on their part at all, having two mustached foreigners coming over from the Mushroom Kingdom to bail them out. It was important that Peasley reassure the people that they were safe, and had a secure royal line that knew what they were doing.
He sighed slowly. It was easier said than done sometimes. His mother was growing older, he knew that. Soon she'd be too sick to rule, and he'd have to take over as King. He didn't know anything about being a true King though. A prince, now that was something he could do. Winning the crowd over, being polite, suave, charismatic. Those were the easy things he knew how to do. But where was the guide on being a King?
Deep down, Peasley had serious doubts.
"….I mustn't think such things." He closed his eyes briefly, shaking his head, his locks swaying along with the movement. He stopped for a moment before resuming his trek down the long hallway towards his quarters.
Suddenly, a small movement caught his eye as he turned. The curtains swayed gently from the wind. He frowned, turning fully to study them further. Why was the window open…?
"….Are you normally…always having the speaking with yourself?" Came a low, soft voice, as if the curtains themselves were speaking. A small giggle accompanied the words. "Is it becausing you are lacking the friends to listen?"
"Who's there?" Peasley demanded, although mentally cursing himself for not sounding a bit more at ease.
Suddenly the curtains moved back, the laugh returning in a mocking manner, and a red-cloaked figure once blending in with the fabric came forward, its' hood pulled up.
"Peasley." It cooed. "After all these times we've had the having of." It held out its' arms as if to embrace him, but stayed in its position. "Are you not remembering? Am I being of that little importance?"
"I demand to know who you are and what you're doing here." Peasley positioned a hand on his hilt, glaring at the figure.
The figure acknowledged the defensive action and chuckled, waving a dismissive hand. "Noing, I am supposing not. I would not be thinking much of the ones who I am thinking are having deadness too."
"Stop speaking in riddle and answer me!"
"….As you are wishing, princeling." With a wide grin, the figure swept back its' hood, revealing large glasses and a tuft of dark hair on the top of his head. "Recognize?" He sneered.
Peasley looked absolutely mortified. His complexion paled immensely as he staggered back towards the wall. He looked as if he'd seen a ghost, and in a way he had.
"Y-you…..you're….I thought…."
Fawful sighed, as if the shock was already boring him, although it was obviously not. "Yes, yes. Fawful knows." He waved a hand. "He is supposed to be dead, and the fink-rat brothers were supposed to have the killing of him, and everything is having normalcy again, and everyone has happy joys and blah blah blahing."
"How did you survive?" Peasley cried. "You…how did you even…" His thoughts were racing a mile a minute. Should he shout for the guards, fight him himself?
"Such terrible listening the Pea-brain is having. Fawful had surviving because he is being smarter than you." He held up a hand to his grinning face, giggling. "I am having more smarts than anyone, because I am always having a plan."
"I heard you were in the Mushroom Kingdom last- awakening the Dark Star. Why are you here?"
"Ahh, well. I had the thinkings that if anyone WERE still looking for Fawful, they'd be looking for him there. But since much times have had passing since Fawful has been here in Bean Bean, I thought I would have visitings. Surprisings for your face, Peasley! Are you having the excites?"
"NO!" Peasley spat, his teeth grinding in irritation. "But you'll be leaving quite soon- but before I call for the guards, tell me what you want."
"Ahh, to be exacting my revenge on the little princeling, and the stupid fink-rat brothers of red and green that put the rage of fog in the eyes that are mine." His grin widened horribly in an impossible manner that seemed to stretch his very face.
"It is I who will have the revenge, for you giving my mother that vile parasite!" Peasley cried, drawing his sword from the hilt hanging around his waist.
"Oh pleasing." Fawful scoffed, a small giggle erupting from his throat. "Your instrument of stabbing is not having helpfulness to you, princeling." He sneered. His eyes lowered behind his thick glasses, as he extracted a small remote from the confines of his red coat. "You'll be seeing what I am meaning, soon."
"Psh, I've faced worst things than you, although I can certainly say they SMELLED a lot better." Peasley pulled a face, as a wafting SOMETHING-or-other began drifting around the area.
"HEY!" Fawful cried indignantly. "Excusing meee, dearest princeling." He sneered, sweeping his arm back in a mocking bow. "….What did you have expecting, that we are all smelling like sad, wimpy roses like you? I had to have the making-of-doings within sewage!"
"Even more of a motivation for me to finish you off and get your dirty carcass off of my carpet." Peasley rose his sword and swung.
Fawful ducked and pressed a switch on the controls, grinning nastily all the while. A rise out of Peasley was precisely what he'd wanted. All of a sudden, a window crashed in, leaving shards of glass skittering across the floor as Fawful's hideous creation, his Headgear flew in to its' master's aid.
Fawful chuckled as it settled onto his small head. "Ah, now it is you who is being at a disadvantage princeling." The Headgear sprung into action, using its' vacuum feature to suck the sword right out of his hand. "Beholding, my vacuum's suckiness, and now your sword is having safety containment in my container." He reached up, tapping on the glass. "And I am having safety too, from the stabby unpleasantry."
"You-" Peasley's face burned with rage as he turned, ready to charge. "You're a despicable creature. You're exactly as you're named. AWFUL."
"FAWFUL is being my name, not this 'awful', FAWFUL." Fawful hit another switch on his remote, sending the Headgear upwards to lift him off of the ground. "Have recognition of the name of the one who is taking your crown, foolish, small, soon-to-be ex-princeling!" He giggled abruptly.
"Are you bloody mad?" Peasley shouted up to him. "You're outnumbered! Guards will certainly come to my aid, and you'll be in prison, or in a straight-jacket, where you belong."
"WRONG IS WHAT YOU ARE!" Fawful shouted, pausing to partake in further laughter. "For you see, I am always having a plan of backings." He grinned widely, and without further hesitation, he hit a switch on his small remote, sending a flurry of small explosives shooting from his Headgear right towards the Peasley.
The prince barely had time to react as the explosion hit, sending shockwaves throughout the entire west wing of the castle. Guards heard the blast immediately and ran, but it was too late, as the explosion sent Peasley tumbling through the hole that was caused from the blast and he freefell towards the town below. Fawful laughed as he watched the singed prince tumble down through the cold, night air, but hadn't anticipated a miscalculation in his launching sequence. One of the rockets was caught in his Headgear, and immediately exploded, blowing up his machine as well as himself, and he too went flying out of the castle in a merciless freefall. His Headgear sputtered and crackled and he felt wind around him.
Peasley landed roughly on a hillside and began rolling over and over, and had he been conscious he would've seen the ground turning upside-down and rightside-up again and again, until finally he came to a stop, lying in the grassy meadows, a gash on his temple and his clothes a sooty mess.
It would be morning before either of them would wake up.