How the Lion Sleeps

"In the jungle, the mighty jungle, the lion sleeps to-"

"Enough!"

With the lion's outburst, Timon came to a sudden stop. So did Pumbaa for that matter, though the warthog didn't do so as gracefully and tumbled onto the ground. And if not for Simba's glare, the meerkat might have rushed to aid him.

"Something the matter buddy?"

"Oh, no, nothing's wrong," sneered Simba. "Only that bloody song you've been singing for the last ten years!"

"Calm down buddy, take a chill plant!"

"Don't tell me to chill, I am chilled! And don't call me buddy!"

Timon sighed. He knew he'd have to deal with this ever since he took Simba in. He was in his teenage phase, a.k.a. rebellion phase, a.k.a. be touchy about everything, ranging from his breaking voice to his growing mane.

"Go on then," Simba said, leaning down and baring his teeth. "Call me buddy again."

"Um…"

Timon glanced back at Pumbaa, wondering what was taking the warthog so long. Seeing the lug sniffing around in some bushes, exclaiming of things tasting like chicken (whatever a chicken actually was), the meerkat supposed he wasn't going to get any support.

"Okay, um…friend," Timon said, patting Simba on the cheek. "Just tell me what the problem is."

"The song!"

"Yeah, but what about it? I mean, is it old? I could sing Hakuna Matata if you want."

"Um-"

"Circle of Life?"

"Er-"

"Or I Can't Wait to be King? I mean, I know you only taught us that once and never wanted it sung again, but hey, it's still catchy."

"No," Simba sighed, lying down against some branches, smashing a paw into a trunk, and taking out some grubs. "It's just…inaccurate."

"Uh-huh," Timon said, seeing that Simba had now entered the "moody phase" of today, one that could last for hours on some occasions. "And why's that?"

"Well," Simba said, talking in-between mouthfuls of grub and adding to the similar sound coming from Pumbaa, "for starters, lions don't technically reside in jungles. We operate in savannahs."

"But you've been living in the jungle with us."

"And 'sleeps tonight'?" Simba asked, clearly not paying attention. "You do know that lions are nocturnal predators right? Or at least crepuscular?"

"Pal, I have no idea what 'crepetacular means, and I probably never will," Timon said. "But you've been up in the daylight hours since day one! I mean, it takes you for ages to get out of the hammock nowadays but-"

"I know, I know!" Simba exclaimed. "Just…" He sighed. "Just…lay off the song for awhile, okay?" He extended his claws, much larger now than they were a few months ago. "Got these remember?"

Timon raised an eyebrow. "You…don't actually use them do you?"

Simba smirked. "As far as you know…"

The meerkat watched the lion head off, humming something that sounded like the one song he insisted never be sung. It might be something to call the lion out on, but perhaps it was better to play it safe. Partly because he could sympathize with the whole growing up thing, partly because he knew that Simba would want to use those claws for something eventually. And there were so only so many trees he could scratch.

"Um-hum! Deeeliccccious!"

And on cue, Pumbaa arrived. On cue, as in, far too late.

"You gotta try the grubs there Timon! They're good grub!"

"And redundant statements aren't redundant." Timon glanced at the warthog. "You heard everything, I take it?"

"Oh yeah, sure. No more singing of Lion Sleeps Tonight, right?"

"Oh heck no! We just only sing it when Simba isn't around."

"Um-"

"Oh relax big guy," Timon said, patting the warthog on the side. "What you think Simba's going to do, lie in the bushes and pounce on us when we least expect it?"

"Er-"

"Didn't think so."

A/N

The idea for this came after watching an episode of QI, where The Lion Sleeps Tonight was brought up. It was sattirically analyzed as being inaccurate, as lions don't actually dwell in jungles, but they actually hunt during the night and if anything, sleep for most of the day. Anyway, came up with this as a result.