DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the 7th Heaven characters, I just use them to entertain my deranged mind occasionally.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is an answer to a Fruitcake Alliance challenge. To receive the Alliance newsletter, including challenges, recommendations, and funny top ten lists, email FruitcakeHQ@yahoo.com
A/N part deaux: I know nothing about Amish people and this fic is in no way meant to truly represent that group, only the modern stereotype of the Amish.
Summary: AU: The Amish Camdens struggle to accept Lucy's decision to become a mime, and everyone gives Mary love advice.
ATTENTION!!!! There is NO Universe in which this will make sense. If you can write an Amish-Camdens, Lucy-mime, capuchin monkey fic that DOES make sense, kudos to you. Feel free to tell me I'm insane. Flames go good with waffles.
RIDICULOUSLY, RIDICULOUSLY GOOD LOOKING
Eric Camden, as always, got up with the sunrise and walked into the kitchen of his house, where his wife Anne was kneading some bread.
"Good morning, dear wife," he said.
"Good morning, husband," Anne replied, looking particularly Amish.
At that moment, their eldest son, Simon, came into the room. "Father, may I borrow the mule tonight?" he asked.
Eric stroked his long beard. "Simon, you know you must be a true man before you can get your mule-driving license. You will walk. It will do your young heart good."
Simon nodded, stroking his chin where a beard would have been had he been manly enough to grow one.
Just then, the eldest Camden daughter, fair Mary, walked in, a capuchin monkey on her shoulder. Eric narrowed his eyes at the monkey. The monkey stroked his beard pensively.
"Father, I wish to become a dairy maid," young Mary said.
"For shame, Mary," Anne replied, "Do you know what kind of woman shows her ankles in those dairy skirts? Next you will want to fly around the world on one of those crazy metal birds in skirts so short you might mistake them for head coverings."
All of the Amish Camdens laughed very solemnly at that idea.
Silently, a second Camden daughter entered the room, her face painted white, with her features exaggerated in black, wearing all black.
Anne gasped. "Lucy! What are you wearing, child?"
Lucy, her chipmunkesque face solemn, began gesturing frantically with her white hands.
"Methinks Lucy is trying to tell us something," Simon commented, still a bit upset that he had been denied mule-driving privileges.
Lucy's hand gestured wildly around her face, and she then took a deep breath and carefully put her hands one by one in front of her. Then she reached overhead, as if feeling some sort of invisible barrier.
Eric gasped in horror. "Those clothes and that cursed makeup have trapped her in some sort of invisible box," he said.
Lucy, frustrated, threw her hands down to her sides and began gesturing in a very melodramatic way.
"Which of my many young suitors would make me the fittest husband?" Mary asked, drawing everyone's attention away from her mime-like sister.
"I consider young Robert like a son," Eric replied.
"I think that Benjamin suits you nicely, and he is strong and would be able to chop much wood," Anne said, churning butter.
"Neither," the capuchin monkey on Mary's shoulder said.
Everyone looked at the monkey in shock, except for mime-Lucy who was gesturing wildly, trying to get everyone's attention and failing miserably.
"Clearly you are not mature enough to be considering any type of relationship," the monkey continued. "And, should you in the near future decide to get married, I fear that you may be a good breeder, and that scares me, because I firmly believe that you should not procreate."
Mary blushed, like a good young Amish lass, upon hearing talk of procreation, and Lucy, underneath all the white, mime pain, blushed as well. The monkey cleared his throat.
"I believe your other daughter is trying to tell you something," he told Eric, rearranging his Amish hat on his head and stroking his little monkey beard again.
The family turned their attentions back to Lucy, who was climbing some sort of invisible ladder in a very exaggerated manner.
"Are you trying to tell us something, daughter?" Anne asked, still churning butter.
Lucy gestured again. All of the Amish Camdens stared at her, not understanding.
Ruth, followed by Samuel and David, entered the room.
"Miiiiiiiiiiiiimmmmmmmeeeee," Samdaviduel said.
"From the mouths of babes," Anne said, shaking her head. "Lucy, dear, you cannot be a mime."
Lucy gestured back, clearly meaning to say, "But, Mother, I AM a mime."
As the amount of time in one episode was running near, the Amish Camdens joined in a group hug, as the monkey scampered from hat to hat.
"We can accept your mimist beliefs," Eric said, gazing off, tears covering his eye. His little girl was all grown up… and a mime.
The Camdens hugged, as Ruth mentally thought of the best way to break it to her parents that she had single handedly discovered electricity and manufactured a small automobile.
"Come, girls, help me quilt this lovely fabric we have been blessed with," Anne said.
The monkey looked at Mime Lucy, truly disturbed. Then it occurred to him that this foolishness could only be the doing of one corrupting force. Princeton University. Darn those tigers and their un-Amish, mime-inducing ways. At least Mary wasn't procreating. Yet.
I TOLD YOU IT MADE NO SENSE. DON'T SAY I DIDN'T WARN YOU.
Here was the challenge:
Princeton is the villain.
A character is turned into a mime.
The Camdens are Amish.
A Capuchin monkey gives someone love advice.
Challenge courtesy of the Fruitcake Alliance.
REVIEW!!! Let your voices be heard. Maybe one day, there will be a crazy Amish sequel. Most likely not.