Note: Yes, ANOTHER fic. Bored of me yet? ;) Anyway, this is another songfic and is about George drinking a little too much. Based on the song Soupy George (yes, ready-made title or what!) by rathergood. Com. Oh, and you're going to have to PLEASE imagine that tins of soup were actually existent in Tortall. As far as I know, Tortallans didn't have tinned soup at their disposal. So use your imagination!
Disclaimer: Don't own any of the people in this, or the song. The song is rathergood. Com's and the characters belong to Tamora Pierce.
Soupy GeorgeGeorge Cooper tumbled out of the Dancing Dove inn and walked (or more like stumbled) along the streets. He was completely inebriated beyond belief, and at that precise moment was having an extreme amount of trouble remaining standing.
"I feel like a walk!" George told himself happily, and set off down the street.
000
A while later, Alanna was on her way to the Dancing Dove to talk to George- she couldn't sleep and her friend was an almost permanent fixture in the chair by the fire. Suddenly she stopped, hearing the loud voice of a singing man. He wasn't a particularly good singer, and he sounded as though he were a commoner. Alanna glanced at the man, and almost immediately recognised him.
"George?" she called. The man turned to look at her.
"Lass!" he shouted back, and ran over to her, nearly tripping over several times before reaching her.
"Um, George…what in the name of the Great Mother Goddess is on your head?" Alanna asked him, narrowing her eyes at the container perched on top of his head.
"Wait a minute! Is…is that soup?" George nodded, smiling like a fool.
Who's that man with the soup on his head? WoahI said who's that man with the soup on his head? Woah
I said Soupy George you've got soup on your head,
Soupy George you've got soup on your head,
Soupy George you've got soup on your head
It's Soupy Soupy Soupy George
Soup on your head
Soup on your head
Soup on your head
Soupy Soupy Soupy George
"George, exactly HOW much have you had to drink?" Alanna asked, scrutinizing the Rogue.
"What's givin' ye that idea, Lass?" George said with a lopsided grin.
"Um, maybe the fact that you're walking around singing, looking like you've consumed ever single liquid in three inns?" Alanna suggested. "And get that soup off of your head!"
"Only if you kiss me, Lass!" George said, grinning more broadly. Alanna shot him a glare and a disgusted look.
"No way, George."
"Think about it!" George insisted.
"Alright. But that doesn't mean I will!" Alanna told him sternly. She walked him to Mistress Cooper's house, and stood outside the door with him.
"George, are you going to take that soup off your head, or am I going to have to call Jon. And he'll get it off you!" she threatened. George shook his head.
"Kiss, or the soup stays put," he insisted. Alanna sighed, muttered about drunken men, and kissed him quickly on his cheek. George smiled and removed the soup from his head.
"Happy now?" George nodded. "Now get inside. Or I really will call Jon!" Alanna gave the thief one last scowl, before walking back to the palace, still muttering to herself.
Yay! I personally hate A/G, but oh well! It makes a good story. Anyway, review please!