Gaston was getting his groove on in his private hotel showers. There were still people in there, and Gaston had no shame in insulting their weight and body figure. He took all their soap, and ran to the mirror with it, cleansing his face and his soul.
"Damn, I be so bangable and fuck-worthy." He slicked his rapidly receding hairline back with the soap in lieu of hair gel. "Bell is gonna be mine this afternoon and tonight and probably tomorrow but I don't know about Thursday I'm busy then and," he said.
Lefou pranced into the outhouse with glee and a bottle of vinegar-vodka. "Hey, Caston! I bought you this cool bottle of "magic" water! It smells like someone took out their colon and rinsed it off in sewage."
Gaston fumed like a fumigator. "Gimme that," he whinnied. He whisked the whiskey from the miniature human's supple fingertips, and hit him over the head with it, rendering him unconscious and ready to go.
Gaston glugged, choking on the bittersweet nectar. "I feel like a whole new woman." He popped his zits, creamed his overalls, and bounded out the door like a rabbit in heat. "Ready to get some fresh dick," he bleated.
Gaston was pleasantly surprised to find Maurice's tarred-and-feathered body in the river under the bridge by the crick. He was bloody and beaten, but not disheartened. He managed to mumble a poem written by himself.
Wherever the wind will softly blow,
That is where my lover go.
Goodbye my lover, friendly tree
I'd keep writing, but I gotta pee.
The whip was snapped, and the cinderblocks tied around his ankles were released into the raging rapids rushing rampantly reneath ris reet.
"Ruh roh," said Scooby.
Gaston took his oath of honor and leapt into the crowd of angry mobsters, wielding fake guns that they felt were real. Gaston picked up a real gun and accidentally cut the rope over Maurice's swollen head. He drop-kicked a woman in the face and ran away into the night.
Meanwhile in the castle, Wario was vigorously hammering his Whack-a-Mole into a fire ant hill. Burning was his kisser.
In the dining room, an innocent seventeen year old was tied down to the floor by a lot of furniture. She whistled to keep her mind off things, but was filled with boiling water in a kiss of passion.
Gaston isn't here.
Wario is here.
wario is belle and wario and wario is gaston and wario is the beast and wario killed snape