Dracadder
HERE COMES THE LEGAL PART: Blackadder is the intellectual property of John Lloyd, Ben Elton and all the rest of them. It is the corporate property of the BBC. BTVS is the intellectual property of Joss Whedon, and the corporate property of FOX. I have no intent of gaining profit from this story.
A very special thank you to Deathtramp for her beta honours
Into every generation there is born a man One who will stand along side the thickies, the rich, and the innocent. And exploit them for all they are worth.
He is the Blackadder
Chapter 1: A night out at the talkies.
London, 1931
Edmund Blackadder walked out of the theatre entrance. He had to avoid the insane clapping that followed the performance inside. He wouldn't have minded it so much, except that no person involved the actual performance was there. It was one of those contemptible talkies. And his Uncle Edmund thought that Charlie Chaplin was bad.
The applause started to die down and more customers began to file out. A rather pale-faced George came out of the theatre. He was a moron really, but he was a social moron. Edmund's finances had been questionable at best. So, he had started to live by a simple rule. "Keep your friends close - but keep thickies with big wads of cash closer". The same could be said for his fiancée Elizabeth. She was the only daughter of Captain Henry Melchett - a mad old man, but with pots of cash.
"Wha-wha-what a scary film!" said George.
"Oh please." Said Edmund. "I've seen scarier things left on chairs where Baldrick has been sat."
George nudged Edmund in the ribs playfully. Edmund merely raised his eyes. This meant that there was a 'oh come now' coming.
"Oh come now, Blackie, you're not telling me you didn't find that Dracula fellow in the least bit Scary?"
"Hardly" said Blackadder "The only thing I found scary about that film is that people were able to take that Hungarian seriously! I mean, if I'd wanted to see a man walking around in a black cape scaring women, I would have just dressed up Baldrick. The acting was awful, the music was grating, but most of all, the entire idea of Vampires is laughable." "But you can't deny Dracula's powers - he was able to make the entire screen go black and white." Insisted George.
Edmund was about to interject when Elizabeth walked up to them. She had a wild smile on her face, along with a sort of vacant tint to her eyes - no change there then.
"Hi Eddie, Hi George. What a terrif film eh?" Said Elizabeth.
George nodded "Well I thought it was super duper but Blackie here thought."
"It was even better!" finished Blackadder, cutting George off with a well- aimed elbow at the ribs. The fact was that Elizabeth was very possessive, and pig headed, much like her father. If Edmund disagreed with her in the slightest way, then she would threaten to call off the marriage. Edmund didn't want that, somehow having to rely on handouts from George who ranks in equal IQ to a particularly clean cabbage wasn't really the way he wanted to spend the rest of his life.
Edmund checked his watch. His butler Baldrick was no-where to be seen. Edmund only hired Baldrick because he worked for turnips (literally). However, he did have his uses. Cooking, cleaning (clean being a relative term when discussing Baldrick) and anything else that Edmund couldn't be arsed to do himself. But certain things were a problem for Baldrick, such as hygiene and rational thought. And now Baldrick was running late. Marvellous.
Finally, he heard the humming of his own car, and it parked on the pavement - knocking down 3 pedestrians.
"Evening Mr B., Mr George, Miss Melchett. Was it a good film?"
"Oh, I enjoyed it." began Blackadder. "But some people may have thought it was the dullest thing to be put on film since two frenchies pointed their camera at the workers leaving their factory."
Elizabeth scowled at him.
".But not me. I thought it was the greatest piece of cinema since Charlie Chaplin hung up his hat and cane" Blackadder amended quickly, seeing his future riches go down the drain.
Edmund, George and Elizabeth all got into the rather large car.
"So where to Mr B?" asked Baldrick
"Take us to an establishment where we can all have a good drink - and somewhere with class this time - I still heave when I think too long about the gentleman's toilets in the last bar you took us." "That was my house Sir. I sleep there."
"Now why doesn't that surprise me." Said Edmund
+++
They arrived at a bar that Edmund had never heard of before. He walked in and saw that most of the occupants were drinking bloody marys. Even the men.
"Strange." Said Edmund.
"What'll it be?" asked the barkeeper. He was a tall and pale man that seemed rather drained to Edmund.
"I want a man's drink, something that says 'watch out girls there's a hard bloke in town'." Demanded Edmund, he then winked to Elizabeth who fluttered her eyelashes.
"Oh Eddie, you are a fib super bloke! I just need to go to powder my nose, excuse me."
Elizabeth sauntered off to the bathroom, whilst Edmund George and Baldrick remained at the bar. .
"Double Whiskey then sir?" asked the barkeep.
Bugger, thought Edmund. The fact was that even after years of living as one of London's elite, he still couldn't hold his booze.
"Well, don't want to make the other patrons feel intimidated by my manliness. better give me some ice in that. And some water. Lots of water. In fact, you better make it a single, or better yet a half. And more water. Umm. I don't suppose you have any lemons behind there do you?"
"Mine's a white wine please Blackadder." Said George.
"Seems only fair since you're paying, and you'd better get Elizabeth one too."
"Oh really, Blackadder, you have to stop letting me get away with this! I always get to pay for your drinks! Why do you always let me be such a super fellow?" Asked George.
Edmund smirked. Poor George. He had managed to convince him that buying the drinks was an honour.
"Because I can think of no one else who deserves to." Said Edmund.
The bartender put the drinks on the tray.
"Will Baldrick have anything?" asked George.
"I would imagine that he has quite a few things already." Replied Edmund. "But the less about his diseases the better. Wait outside until we're done Balders."
"But Sir it's raining outside." said Baldrick
"Well, it will be your first shower in two years then won't it?"
"Oh come now Blackadder" Piped in George. "We can't have the poor servant getting wet now can we?"
Edmund paused. Actually he realised that George was right. "Now that you mention it, we can't have a dripping Baldrick on my car upholstery. My car would become a gas chamber on wheels. Alright, Balders, wait in the toilets... in the other saloon."
"Oh thank you sir." Baldrick said, a wide smile on his face.
The barkeep set the drinks onto a tray, and George carried them over to an empty table.
"So, Edmund, you don't believe in Vampires then?" Asked George.
"Of course I don't. The only unholy blood sucking creature that I know of is powdering her nose."
Blackadder took a sip of his drink, immediately felt dizzy. He emptied the glass into his mouth, without swallowing, got up, and headed for the toilets. He spat all the whisky into a sink, and frantically started to wash his mouth out.
"So, one of us now, eh Eddie?" came a voice from behind him. He looked up to see his old associate Gordon Flasheart. Word had it that he had died when he was found dead on his estate after falling on a toasting fork. Although he wasn't dead, he did look quite pale.
"Honestly, Flasheart, if you're going to fake your own death, you should really avoid people you know. It sort of shatters the illusion of being dead."
A smile spread across Flasheart's face. "Ah, so you just wandered in here then? And I am dead. I'm 100% stiff and I'm not talking about my-"
"Yes, well, you see Flasheart," Edmund said, interrupting yet another double entendre "generally, as a rule the dead do not get up and frequent bars, and harass their friends with woefully unfunny plays on words like you did."
"No Eddie, I'm a blood sucking fiend now, I'm a vampire. I can keep going all night. But that's no different from when I was mortal - WOOF!" Edmund shook his head - what was it everyone? One look at a badly acted version of an Irishman's mildly successful novel, and they are either scared to death or think that they are a vampire.
"Look, Flasheart, you see that mirror over there? If you were one of these Vampires, you would have no reflection."
Edmund looked at the mirror, and he appeared to be standing alone.
".And you do have a reflection." Edmund continued. He glanced back at the mirror.
"It just seems to be invisible right about. arrrrrrrgghhhhhhh" Edmund realised that Flasheart was indeed a Vampire. He quickly regained his composure and started to back away.
"Well, I see that you are a Vampire, and no doubt you are pretty hungry right about now. May I recommend the George? He's excellent with a touch of white wine. Or possibly the Elizabeth?" he continued to back away, but froze when Flashheart's face twisted into the hideous visage of his inner demon.
"No, Eddie, I think I have my course right here!"
+++
TBC Will Edmund escape from the clutches of Lord Flasheart? Will George realised he's being exploited? Will Baldrick realise that turnips are not adequate payment in the 20th century? Find out in the second part of this tale!
HERE COMES THE LEGAL PART: Blackadder is the intellectual property of John Lloyd, Ben Elton and all the rest of them. It is the corporate property of the BBC. BTVS is the intellectual property of Joss Whedon, and the corporate property of FOX. I have no intent of gaining profit from this story.
A very special thank you to Deathtramp for her beta honours
Into every generation there is born a man One who will stand along side the thickies, the rich, and the innocent. And exploit them for all they are worth.
He is the Blackadder
Chapter 1: A night out at the talkies.
London, 1931
Edmund Blackadder walked out of the theatre entrance. He had to avoid the insane clapping that followed the performance inside. He wouldn't have minded it so much, except that no person involved the actual performance was there. It was one of those contemptible talkies. And his Uncle Edmund thought that Charlie Chaplin was bad.
The applause started to die down and more customers began to file out. A rather pale-faced George came out of the theatre. He was a moron really, but he was a social moron. Edmund's finances had been questionable at best. So, he had started to live by a simple rule. "Keep your friends close - but keep thickies with big wads of cash closer". The same could be said for his fiancée Elizabeth. She was the only daughter of Captain Henry Melchett - a mad old man, but with pots of cash.
"Wha-wha-what a scary film!" said George.
"Oh please." Said Edmund. "I've seen scarier things left on chairs where Baldrick has been sat."
George nudged Edmund in the ribs playfully. Edmund merely raised his eyes. This meant that there was a 'oh come now' coming.
"Oh come now, Blackie, you're not telling me you didn't find that Dracula fellow in the least bit Scary?"
"Hardly" said Blackadder "The only thing I found scary about that film is that people were able to take that Hungarian seriously! I mean, if I'd wanted to see a man walking around in a black cape scaring women, I would have just dressed up Baldrick. The acting was awful, the music was grating, but most of all, the entire idea of Vampires is laughable." "But you can't deny Dracula's powers - he was able to make the entire screen go black and white." Insisted George.
Edmund was about to interject when Elizabeth walked up to them. She had a wild smile on her face, along with a sort of vacant tint to her eyes - no change there then.
"Hi Eddie, Hi George. What a terrif film eh?" Said Elizabeth.
George nodded "Well I thought it was super duper but Blackie here thought."
"It was even better!" finished Blackadder, cutting George off with a well- aimed elbow at the ribs. The fact was that Elizabeth was very possessive, and pig headed, much like her father. If Edmund disagreed with her in the slightest way, then she would threaten to call off the marriage. Edmund didn't want that, somehow having to rely on handouts from George who ranks in equal IQ to a particularly clean cabbage wasn't really the way he wanted to spend the rest of his life.
Edmund checked his watch. His butler Baldrick was no-where to be seen. Edmund only hired Baldrick because he worked for turnips (literally). However, he did have his uses. Cooking, cleaning (clean being a relative term when discussing Baldrick) and anything else that Edmund couldn't be arsed to do himself. But certain things were a problem for Baldrick, such as hygiene and rational thought. And now Baldrick was running late. Marvellous.
Finally, he heard the humming of his own car, and it parked on the pavement - knocking down 3 pedestrians.
"Evening Mr B., Mr George, Miss Melchett. Was it a good film?"
"Oh, I enjoyed it." began Blackadder. "But some people may have thought it was the dullest thing to be put on film since two frenchies pointed their camera at the workers leaving their factory."
Elizabeth scowled at him.
".But not me. I thought it was the greatest piece of cinema since Charlie Chaplin hung up his hat and cane" Blackadder amended quickly, seeing his future riches go down the drain.
Edmund, George and Elizabeth all got into the rather large car.
"So where to Mr B?" asked Baldrick
"Take us to an establishment where we can all have a good drink - and somewhere with class this time - I still heave when I think too long about the gentleman's toilets in the last bar you took us." "That was my house Sir. I sleep there."
"Now why doesn't that surprise me." Said Edmund
+++
They arrived at a bar that Edmund had never heard of before. He walked in and saw that most of the occupants were drinking bloody marys. Even the men.
"Strange." Said Edmund.
"What'll it be?" asked the barkeeper. He was a tall and pale man that seemed rather drained to Edmund.
"I want a man's drink, something that says 'watch out girls there's a hard bloke in town'." Demanded Edmund, he then winked to Elizabeth who fluttered her eyelashes.
"Oh Eddie, you are a fib super bloke! I just need to go to powder my nose, excuse me."
Elizabeth sauntered off to the bathroom, whilst Edmund George and Baldrick remained at the bar. .
"Double Whiskey then sir?" asked the barkeep.
Bugger, thought Edmund. The fact was that even after years of living as one of London's elite, he still couldn't hold his booze.
"Well, don't want to make the other patrons feel intimidated by my manliness. better give me some ice in that. And some water. Lots of water. In fact, you better make it a single, or better yet a half. And more water. Umm. I don't suppose you have any lemons behind there do you?"
"Mine's a white wine please Blackadder." Said George.
"Seems only fair since you're paying, and you'd better get Elizabeth one too."
"Oh really, Blackadder, you have to stop letting me get away with this! I always get to pay for your drinks! Why do you always let me be such a super fellow?" Asked George.
Edmund smirked. Poor George. He had managed to convince him that buying the drinks was an honour.
"Because I can think of no one else who deserves to." Said Edmund.
The bartender put the drinks on the tray.
"Will Baldrick have anything?" asked George.
"I would imagine that he has quite a few things already." Replied Edmund. "But the less about his diseases the better. Wait outside until we're done Balders."
"But Sir it's raining outside." said Baldrick
"Well, it will be your first shower in two years then won't it?"
"Oh come now Blackadder" Piped in George. "We can't have the poor servant getting wet now can we?"
Edmund paused. Actually he realised that George was right. "Now that you mention it, we can't have a dripping Baldrick on my car upholstery. My car would become a gas chamber on wheels. Alright, Balders, wait in the toilets... in the other saloon."
"Oh thank you sir." Baldrick said, a wide smile on his face.
The barkeep set the drinks onto a tray, and George carried them over to an empty table.
"So, Edmund, you don't believe in Vampires then?" Asked George.
"Of course I don't. The only unholy blood sucking creature that I know of is powdering her nose."
Blackadder took a sip of his drink, immediately felt dizzy. He emptied the glass into his mouth, without swallowing, got up, and headed for the toilets. He spat all the whisky into a sink, and frantically started to wash his mouth out.
"So, one of us now, eh Eddie?" came a voice from behind him. He looked up to see his old associate Gordon Flasheart. Word had it that he had died when he was found dead on his estate after falling on a toasting fork. Although he wasn't dead, he did look quite pale.
"Honestly, Flasheart, if you're going to fake your own death, you should really avoid people you know. It sort of shatters the illusion of being dead."
A smile spread across Flasheart's face. "Ah, so you just wandered in here then? And I am dead. I'm 100% stiff and I'm not talking about my-"
"Yes, well, you see Flasheart," Edmund said, interrupting yet another double entendre "generally, as a rule the dead do not get up and frequent bars, and harass their friends with woefully unfunny plays on words like you did."
"No Eddie, I'm a blood sucking fiend now, I'm a vampire. I can keep going all night. But that's no different from when I was mortal - WOOF!" Edmund shook his head - what was it everyone? One look at a badly acted version of an Irishman's mildly successful novel, and they are either scared to death or think that they are a vampire.
"Look, Flasheart, you see that mirror over there? If you were one of these Vampires, you would have no reflection."
Edmund looked at the mirror, and he appeared to be standing alone.
".And you do have a reflection." Edmund continued. He glanced back at the mirror.
"It just seems to be invisible right about. arrrrrrrgghhhhhhh" Edmund realised that Flasheart was indeed a Vampire. He quickly regained his composure and started to back away.
"Well, I see that you are a Vampire, and no doubt you are pretty hungry right about now. May I recommend the George? He's excellent with a touch of white wine. Or possibly the Elizabeth?" he continued to back away, but froze when Flashheart's face twisted into the hideous visage of his inner demon.
"No, Eddie, I think I have my course right here!"
+++
TBC Will Edmund escape from the clutches of Lord Flasheart? Will George realised he's being exploited? Will Baldrick realise that turnips are not adequate payment in the 20th century? Find out in the second part of this tale!