This entire story takes place in Sheogorath realm "The Mind of a Madman" – also known as Pelagius' mind in the Daedric Quest in Skyrim. No spoilers.
"Get your ass out of my throne!"
Cicero let out a yawn, lazily opening his eyes to a mysterious sight.
"What – Where is Cicero?" He asked out into the open air, "Night mother? Night Mother!" He shouted in horror, "Where are you!"
A sudden smack on the back of his head snapped him back to reality, "I said, get your ass out of my throne!"
He let out an exaggerated whimper, "Was it necessary to hit poor Cicero?" He asked, rubbing his head.
The stranger grabbed him by the ear, dragging him out of the chair, "I SAID, GET OUT OF MY THRONE!"
"Lay your filthy fingers off of Cicero!" He argued, giving the stranger a slap across the face.
He let out a hiss, "Do you not know who I am?!" He spat back, rubbing his reddened cheek, "I am SHEOGORATH. The Daedric Prince of Madness!"
'Oooh," He chuckled, pretending to shake in fear, "Cicero is so scared, please don't hurt Cicero, great prince!" He chanted sarcastically.
"Stop talking in third person, you damned jester! You're getting on my nerves - Now keep quiet and take a seat across the table!" He ordered, ignoring the insults.
He skipped his way to the table, taking a seat in Sheogorath's chair, "NOT there!" He hissed before the jester could sit down, "This is my spot, understand?! You can sit over there," He laughed, pointing to the small bench on the opposite side of the table.
"Ho ho, no need to keep shouting at poor Cicero," He grinned, taking his assigned seat. His mouth began to water at the sight bestowed upon him – Cheese wheels, pies, mead, and the sweet rolls and the carrots… Oh the sweet rolls and the carrots! He began to twiddle his fingers, deciding what to help himself to first.
As he reached for a sweet roll, Sheogorath smacked the jester's fingers, "Don't make me tear your intestines out now! This is for the groups of my most treasured guests, which you are not a part of. Now please try to pay attention. I know what I'm about to tell you will be difficult for your primitive, mortal mind to understand-"
"Cicero refuses to listen until he has been given a sweetroll!" He interrupted.
"Will you shut up for two minutes and let me speak?!" He shouted, smacking his hands down on the table.
"Cicero refuses to listen-"
"Okay, okay! Take a damned sweetroll!"
He grinned from cheek-to-cheek, standing up to get a better sight as he snatched up all of the small cakes, stuffing them in his mouth. He sat back down, his smile still spread across his face, stuffed with sweetrolls.
Sheogorath let out a deep sigh, "I already regret this…" He muttered, trailing off into his thoughts. "Then again, if this doesn't work out…" He shrugged, "I could just tear you apart and take that lovely outfit of yours. I could definitely pull off a hat like that…" He snickered.
He snapped himself out of his thoughts, looking back up at the oblivious jester, who was distracted by his dagger, piercing it in and out of a cheese wheel.
"NOT MY CHEESE WHEELS!" He screeched, snatching it away from Cicero's merciless stabbing. "Are you okay, my precious?" He asked, cradling it, "How selfish of me to leave you in the hands of that…" He looked up at him, "Of that… monster!"
He lovingly put the cheese wheel back on the table, stacking it on top of another, "You'll be safe here…" He muttered, patting it gently.
"And Cicero thought he was crazy!" The jester snickered from his seat, "But it looks like the Prince of Madness beat him at his own game!"
"Silence!" He ordered – and for once, Cicero obeyed; Sitting cross-legged on the bench with his head hunched down, fiddling with the dagger.
"Rule number one: NO ONE, and I mean NO ONE touches my cheese wheels. Understand?" But the jester was silent. Taking this is as a good sign, he continued to speak. "Good. Now, if you are finally satisfied, I'd appreciate it if you would keep your mouth-"
"Where is Cicero?!" He suddenly shouted, snapping his head back up as he stared at the trees and eerie sky that surrounded him.
"You're RIGHT HERE, you fool!"
"No, no, where have you taken Cicero?"
"Is that really necessary for you to know right now?!"
"Can Cicero have a carrot?"
The prince – The prince of Madness – was for once, speechless.
He shook his head in frustration, not sure how much more of this he could take. He took a carrot and shot it straight to the jester, "Get out," He whispered as he began to crack, "GET OUT! GET OUT OF HERE! I TRULY AM CRAZY FOR THINKING OF GIVING YOU MY WABBAJACK!"
Cicero caught the carrot with ease, adding to the prince's agitation. "Wabbajack? That sounds like fun," He said, nibbling on the carrot.
"Yes, well if you weren't such an imbecile, then perhaps you could have seen the power that staff holds! But you've lost your chance, now leave! You aren't even worth my time to kill, just leave me before I lose my sanity!"
"How can the prince of Madness have any sanity in the first place?" He asked cheerfully, waving the carrot around.
Sheogorath slowly placed his hands on the table, bringing his face inches away from the jester's, "Get. Out."
Cicero gave him a quick peck on the lips.
"What in obliv-"
"Bleh," He spat in disgust, "Cicero is only interested in the Night Mother… and the Listener… But she doesn't really notice Cicero…" He whimpered.
"What in oblivion was that?!" He exclaimed, pushing Cicero back down on the bench, "You fool! I should kill you right where you stand!"
"Night Mother would be so proud of Cicero if he could take a look at the Wabbajack," He chuckled, ignoring the threats, "Oh so, so very proud!"
"You're almost as insane as me if you thought I'd let you anywhere near it!" He objected, pointing to the staff that was leaning next to his throne.
"Is that the Wabbajack Sheogorath speaks of?" He asked, unable to pry his eyes off of it.
"Yes, and don't you dare even-" But before he could finish, Cicero flung himself across the table. Knocking over the cheese wheels and bottles of mead, he grasped his hands out to the staff, getting a tight hold of it.
"What do you think you're doing?!" Sheogorath shouted, trying to grab hold of him as he ran across the open field, the Wabbajack in hand.
"What does it do, sweet prince?" He asked, examining it.
"Don't you dare point that at anything!" He hissed, slowly inching his way towards him.
"Cicero does not follow any rules! He is the server of the Night Mother, and the Night Mother only!" He chanted as he aimed it towards the prince, shooting out a purple bolt.
Sheogorath barely missed the shot, dodging away from its line of sight as he fell to the ground. The bolt continued straight, hitting a bee that was quietly humming in the distance.
Suddenly, the bee disintegrated, a puff of blue cloud surrounding it as a Dremora Lord appeared out of thin air – charging straight towards the prince and jester, his sword ready to strike.
"You IDIOT!" Sheogorath shouted as he darted towards Cicero, snatching the Wabbajack out of his fingers. He pointed it to the Dremora Lord and with one quick zap, it transformed into a sweet roll, dropping to the ground.
"OOOH!" Cicero chanted, dancing his way to it. He picked it up off the ground, looking back at Sheogorath.
"Don't' eat tha-" And of course, before he could finish his sentence, he ignored his warning and stuffed the treat in his mouth, smacking his lips with delight. Sheogorath sighed, shaking his head.
"Cicero loves sweet rolls almost as much as the Wabbajack," He gave a sheepish smile, eyeing the staff in the prince's hand.
"You've caused enough trouble in my realm, could you imagine the chaos you'd cause in Tamriel with this thing?!"
"But is Sheogorath not the evil Daedric Prince of Madness?"
The Prince was silent, rubbing his chin, "I suppose I could use another minion in Skyrim, ever since the last one got in that horrible cheese and mead accident…"
"So can Cicero have the Wabbajack?" He asked with delight.
"I know I'm going to regret this. But fine, take the damn thing before I change my mind," He said, taking a seat in his throne, "Now leave me be! I have a particularly, young, pestering Pelagius to deal with, go!"
Cicero danced and chanted his way to the prince, snatching the Wabbajack out of his hands, "Cicero has made a new friend, and with a prince!" He chuckled.
"No, you haven't," He said bluntly, "And watch where you point that thing!"
Ignoring his instructions, he began pointing and zapping everything he could, all the while chanting and dancing around the table. Bees became chickens, cheese wheels became Dremora Lords, and cups of mead became sweet rolls.
"Cicero's new secret weapon: The Wabbajack!" He exclaimed, skipping away as he easily evaded the hits and attacks from the Dremora Lords, "Better be quicker than that, friends!" He laughed.
"YOU ARE RUINING MY DINNER PARTY!" Sheogorath screamed in agony, "BE GONE WITH YOU!" He shouted as he hit Cicero with a spell of his own – a portal that threw him, along with all his mutated cheese wheels, Dremora lords, and most importantly, the Wabbajack – into Skyrim.
It was finally silent in the realm, "Ahh," The prince gave a sigh of relief, "I thought he'd never leave…"
He walked up to his throne and took a seat, picking up the cheese wheel that Cicero had been stabbing, "Are you alright, my love? My precious?" He asked, giving it a hug, "That jester is never going to take another step in here ever again, I promise," And with a kiss, he began nibbling on the edge of the cheese.
After a few minutes of silence, he got up out of his throne, "I think it's high time we go give Pelagius a visit. He must be starving. How many years has it been since we last fed him?" He chuckled, walking into the forest, cheese wheel in hand, the sounds of haunting screams echoing from within the trees.
It's most likely possible that Sheogreath could have just obliterated the first Dremora Lord, but I thought it'll be more fun this way.
I really don't know how 'funny' this was – I don't think I'm too good with scripted humour, but I guess we'll just have to find out :P
Thanks for reading, reviews and opinions are welcome :)