Author's Note: I'm
making fun of the three musketeers. Oh,
no, wait! There are FOUR of them. D'Artagnan, Athos, Porthos, and Aramis! So there.
Inaccurately titled book.
*wink* Anyways, yea... I'm
making fun of them. It's more fun than
saying how heroic they are. If I said
how heroic they are, my story would go like this:
It was a
bright, happy day. The Cardinal and his
men came out and bonked our heroes, D'Artagnan, Porthos, Athos, and Aramis, on their
heads with pumpkins that broke because of their very thick skulls. They unsheathed their swords, screamed, "All
for one, and one for all!" and dueled with them until all of the Cardinal's men
were bloody and dead. Joy spread
throughout the universe. They were so
heroic.
THE END
Author's Note: (continued) There, now wasn't that a nice
story? Nice and boring, just the way
you like it. But no, I want to write
more, so you're going to listen to me degrade them further. I hope you enjoy my poking fun at them. Keep in mind that I LOVE them, really, but I
make fun of almost everything, so, I MUST make fun of them too. This happens whenever you want, but they
haven't separated yet, so... yea... WHO WILL BE MY NEXT VICTIM????? MUAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
Porthos was
busy applying lipstick and eye shadow when there was a knock on his door. Leaving his rouge smeared across his nose,
he went to answer it. It was Bob the
Eskimo. (A/N: I like the name Bob, so I
use it for a lot of characters) When
Bob the Eskimo saw him, he pointed, laughed, and said, "You women so
vain." (A/N: With a funny accent,
too!!) Then Porthos realized that (DUN DUN DUN!) he didn't know what an Eskimo was. So he closed the door, leaving poor Bob the Eskimo outside. But Bob the Eskimo went to bother Bob the
Other Eskimo. They had fun. Porthos painted his face using eye shadow as
lipstick and vice versa. (A/N: As you
could probably imagine, he looked kind of weird. And by the way, it was purple eyeshadow. *Author cracks up at the mental image. Yes, Author IS crazy. So are you, to read this fic. But don't worry. Crazy is good. Sane is
bad*) So Porthos walked out onto the street, shaking his Big Beer Belly. (A/N:
Note capital letter.)
"What a
wonderful-" Alas, poor Porthos was cut off by a large barrel crashing into his
blown up head and deflating it. He went
to the bar with his messed up make-up.
Everybody pointed at him and laughed.
He stayed anyways, resisting peer pressure. (A/N: Ahh... He's a strong one, he is! Standing up to his peers!
*Author is "proud" of Porthos but still thinks he looks stupid. Porthos is offended, but Author is too busy
laughing her insane head off to notice.)
Porthos is now not happy and we will move on to Aramis* We now leave
Porthos with a smaller ego and travel to our good buddy Aramis because we like
him, don't we? (A/N: If you don't... I
can't do anything about it. But we're
going to talk about Aramis now anyways.
SO THERE! I'm the author, and
you aren't!!! HAHAHAHHAHA! I'M SO FUNNY!!! I CRACK MYSELF UP! OK,
I'll shut up now so you can keep reading.)
Aramis woke
up. His servant asked him what he would
like to eat for breakfast.
"NO!" Aramis shuddered, "Breakfast is sinful!"
So he went
hungry and stepped outside, forgetting to remove his choo-choo train
jammies. Everybody pointed at him and
laughed. He told them it was a sin and
went to the bar to meet everybody else.
Porthos was there with his deflated head, now-puny ego, and painted
face. But moving on to D'Artagnan...
D'Artagnan
woke up on a cheerful day. Not
realizing what he was doing, he put his rather large hat on his feet (A/N:
Yep. All 24,875 of them! I'm so proud of my boy! *Beams proudly*) his pants on his head, used
his sword for pants, and put his shirt on.
(A/N: DO NOT ATTEMPT AT HOME.
D'ARTAGNAN IS A TRAINED PROFESSIONAL) He then buckled his shoes to his
belt. As he journeyed to the bar, he
met up with 248,756,384,756 of the Cardinal's Guard! But was our hero reluctant?
NO!!!! He pulled off his trusty
shoes and fought them, one by one until they all had gum on their faces. (And you know that's not possible, because
THEY DIDN'T HAVE GUM BACK THEN!) So now
we move on to Athos. (Author likes
Athos)
Athos woke
up. He changed into his musketeers uniform. He went outside. A horse ran over him. He
hit it using his trusty overcooked noodles.
The horse ran over him again. He
hit it using his trusty overcooked noodles.
The horse ran over him again. He
hit it using his trusty overcooked noodles.
The horse ran over him again. He
hit it using his trusty overcooked noodles.
The horse ran over him again. He
hit it using his trusty overcooked noodles.
The horse ran over him again. He
hit it using his trusty overcooked noodles.
The horse ran over him again. He
hit it using his trusty overcooked noodles.
He then went to the bar.
So they met
at the bar, Porthos with his deflated head and messed-up makeup, Aramis still
hungry (because breakfast is sinful) and still in his choo-choo train jimmies,
D'Artagnan with his strange uniform *wink*, and Athos with his trusty
overcooked noodle. They were soon
called to the king.
"Now, my
beloved trusty musketeers," said the king, who was wearing a pair of purple
boxers with orange and lime green hearts all over it, "You must find out who
has stolen the Royal Paper! Now
go! And come back in three months!"
As they
left, D'Artagnan asked, "What Royal Paper?
I didn't know the king had Royal Paper..."
"SH!"
hissed Athos, "We must be careful! The
king is relying upon us to find him his Royal Paper! We shall go our separate ways, and meet back here to present him
with his royal paper and tell him of our adventures! See you stinkers in three months!"
And they
parted. And for three months, they
searched for the Royal Paper. They
searched in London; they searched in France.
They even searched in someone's underpants. They all found some sort of Royal Paper to give the king at the
end of the three months.
The king
stared at them. "Ahhh..." he said, "You
must have my Royal Paper!!!"
Porthos
began by presenting the king with paper that glinted of gold.
"Ooohhh...
pretty!" exclaimed the king.
Porthos
began, "Milord, I have searched London.
I have searched France. I have
searched someone's underpants. And I
present you with none other than the Royal Paper, made of twenty-four karat
gold, stolen by a page and sold across the border for 5,000 francs. I, being the courageous man I am, have
hunted it down and brought it back to you, Your Majesty."
"Interesting. But not interesting enough. This is not my Royal Paper! TO THE DUNGEONS!!!" yelled the king.
Poor
Porthos was dragged off to the dungeons.
Aramis
presented the king with paper that glinted of silver.
"Oooohhhh...
pretty!" exclaimed the king.
"Milord, I
have searched London. I have searched
France. I have searched someone's
underpants. And I present you with none
other than the Royal Paper, made of pure silver but still able to be written on
with a normal pen. A lowly servant boy,
whom I have already punished for you, stole it, and had it in his mind to sell
it. He did not get far, milord. I have brought back for you, your Royal
Paper!" Aramis exclaimed.
"What?!?!?! This is not my Royal Paper! TO THE DUNGEONS!!!" screamed the king.
Poor Aramis
was dragged to the dungeons, screaming, "NO!!!
THE DUNGEONS ARE SINFUL!!! NO!!!!!!"
The sounds reverberated annoyingly, and soon Bob the Operator Guy turned
off the speakers. He turned them back
on after Aramis was in the dungeons (poor fellow).
Athos
presented the king with paper studded with all kinds of precious gems, heavy
but still usable.
"Ooooohhhh...
pretty!" exclaimed the king.
"Milord, I
have searched London. I have searched
France. I have searched someone's
underpants. And I present you with none
other than the Royal Paper, made with none but the best papyrus and studded
with sapphires, rubies, topazes, opals, pearls, and emeralds, all top quality. It was stolen by a lowly kitchen maid, who
needed the money desperately, so I gave her money and took back your Royal
Paper, milord."
"Hey! This isn't my Royal Paper! TO THE DUNGEONS!" screeched the king.
Poor Athos
was dragged down to the dungeons, whacking the guards with his overcooked
noodle. They confiscated it.
D'Artagnan
(Our stupid hero, but our hero) presented the king with (DUN DUN DUN!) a roll
of toilet paper.
"Milord, I
have searched London. I have searched
France. I have searched someone's
underpants. And I present you with none
other than the Royal Paper, made with the softest materials for your pleasure,
milord. Mr. Gablonkers, who was late
for Language Arts because he was knocked unconscious by a falling walnut, stole
it. He was revived by a veterinarian,
who used a flaming pot of aluminum cans and a snorlonker."
"D'Artagnan,
you have done it! THIS IS MY ROYAL
PAPER!"
D'Artagnan
was given a new hat for his troubles.
He was very happy.
THE (REAL) END
I am eating my beloved JellyBelly's, which seem to have made
me hyper, which is probably why I wrote this... But, well, yea... So I'm
crazy. That's a good thing. At least I can amuse people with my
craziness.
Disclaimer: I do not
own the musketeers (Oh, I wish I owned Athos.
Or D'Artagnan. Or Aramis. Not Porthos, though. I mean... I like Athos the best because he
is capable of THINKING, but D'Artagnan is cool, too, even though I think he's kind
of stupid. Aramis is cool, but just WAY
too good... it's, like, other-worldish or something. Porthos is annoying. He's
dumb, too. I don't like him.) or the
king. Athos owns the overcooked
noodles. The king owns the roll of
toilet paper and the weird boxers.
Porthos owns the makeup. Aramis
owns the choo-choo train jammies. I
don't want them anymore. I do, however,
own Bob the Eskimo, Bob the Other Eskimo, and Bob the Operator Guy. The stupid plot is also mine. All the corny humor is mine. Now please review. Or, if you are too freaked out by my insanity, please hold out
your hand and bonk yourself on the head.
Have a nice day!!!
