Monty Prussia
Genre: Humour/Adventure
Rating: T
Pairings: None
Summary: In which cowardly Sir Robin loves tomatoes, Lancelot is actually chivalrous, no one can still remember Gawain, and a certain albino can't seem to count to three. Oh, and the English have the Holy Grail, go figure.
"Prussia" – Talking
'Spain' – Thinking
France – Other
Disclaimer: If I owned Hetalia then we wouldn't have our amazing Prussia and Gilbird. Sad, huh? And our beloved Monty Python wouldn't be funny if under my care.
A/N: Fixed some errors. So, for those who can't tell, there are going to be some alterations to the original Monty Python and the Holy Grail, as characters may become OOC sometimes to adapt to the story. Overall, though, nothing will be much different and hopefully still as entertaining! Just a footnote; this is set in Prussia, as to why it's ironic the English have the Grail. Also, for those who didn't know, Sir Lancelot wasn't as honorable as he's always made out to be; the guy was having an affair with the Queen! (Whose name I forget). And no one ever remembers or even knows of Sir Gawain, who was actually one of the most humble and chivalrous of all the Knights of the Round Table. So guess who plays him ;P
Prussia, the year is 932AD and the usual misty fog rolls over the land. Naught can be seem but a lone pole of wood and tarp and steel and wire and tarp and wood and more tarp and-
We would like to inform our readers that the narrator has failed his job in a totally un-awesome way and has been stabbed for it. No, we do not SACK people; we STAB them, as is the awesome way. Now, onto our new awesome, but still un-awesome narrator.
...
Who has just been stabbed due to lack of overall awesome. Here, we'll leave it to the Asian author who, somehow, has a British accent.
As the wind gently carried the fog on in a moist sheet, two silhouettes emerged from the hill; the slight clapping of coconu-horseshoes could be heard. As they easily strode on, the man in lead raised his hand and grunted a command to stop. His posture was proud and spoke of awesome. His silver hair flowed easily with the breeze as his crimson eyes dared anyone to defy him. Skin of the palest shade only amplified his confident gaze. From what pale lighting there was, you could catch the glint of an Iron Cross. A sunburst yellow chick chirped from his snowy hair. The tenant/mule trailing behind let out an inaudible sigh, but dutifully followed, seeing as he was pretty awesome but still not awesome enough to be a proper character in this particular story.
Ushering another grunt, the albino man continued on to the distant castle, his pristine white cape flowed epically behind him as his similarly white tunic fluttered softly. Shining silver chainmail adorned his awesome person while rattling at a melodic rhythm. The steady beat of clapping coconu-horseshoes created a soothing song as they reached the castle walls.
"Halt!" The company complied, "Who goes there?" A voice shouted from above.
"It is I, Gilbert, the epitome of awesomeness! King of the Teutonic Knights! Defeater of the Austrians! Sovereign of ALL Prussia!"
"...Who's the other one?" The guard's voice was muffled by distance and the author isn't entirely sure if this is right.
"Huh? Oh, this is my also awesome partner, Gilbird!" Gilbert motioned to the little chick on his head that seemed to ruffle its feathers in pride.
"I meant the guy carryin' all your stuff,"
"Eh, he's not awesome enough to be mentioned really. Anyways, I've ridden over this whole land in search of knights deemed awesome enough to join me in my court of Awesome! I demand to speak to your lord and master!" Yes, because awesomness like him is allowed to demand!
"What? Ridden on a horse?" He exclaimed in disbelief.
"Um, yeah... what of it?"
"You're usin' coconuts!"
"What?"
"You're usin' two empty halves of coconut and you're bangin' 'em together!
"So? It's awesome! Besides, we've been riding since the snows of winter covered this land, through the kingdoms of France, through-!"
"Where'd you get the coconuts?"
"We found them, duh,"
"Found them? In FRANCE?"
"Yeah, so what?"
"France has a temperate climate; coconuts are tropical!"
"So? Swallows may fly south with the sun, or the house martin or plumber seek warmer climates in winter, yet these are not strangers to our land?"
"Are you suggesting that coconuts migrate?"
"Of course not! It could have been carried!"
"What? A swallow carrying a coconut?"
"It could grip it by the husk! Swallows are awesome like that!"
"It's not a question of where it GRIPS it! It's a simple question of weight ratio! A five ounce bird could not carry a one pound coconut!"
"That doesn't matter! Will you just tell your master that Gilbert the Awesome is here?"
"Listen, in order to maintain air speed velocity, a swallow needs to beat its wings forty three times every second, right?"
"C'mon!"
"Am I right?"
"I don't give a crap!"
"It could be carried by an African swallow!" An unseen guard suddenly spoke up.
"Oh yeah, an African swallow, maybe, but not a European swallow that's my point,"
"Oh yeah I agree with that,"
Gilbert was about to pull his hair out. Gilbird chirped in synchronized annoyance.
"Will you just ask your master if he wants to join my court of Awesome?"
"...But then, of course, the African swallows are not migratory,"
"Oh yeah," the unseen guard agreed. Gilbert turned back to his lackey and silently signaling for them to just leave. The guards continued.
"So they couldn't bring a coconut back anyway," suddenly, another unseen guard joined in.
"Wait a minute! Supposing two swallows carried it together,"
"No, they'd be out of line," the first guard conversed.
"Oh, simple! You just use a strand of tree bark!"
"What? Held under the dorsal guidance feathers?"
"Well why not?"
At this point, King Gilbert was long gone.
A triangle chimed dully as a metal faucet pipe struck it. A sickly sweet voice spoke, "Bring out your dead!"
Another dull chime resounded as the words were repeated, "Bring out your dead!"
A low riding platform was being rolled along by three half-dead people. Even more fully dead bodies were piled onto the platform. Yet, no one was fazed and the dull chorus of chimes and chants was repeated by a beige haired man. In an overly large and slightly tattered cloak, he continued the dismal chant with a placid smile upon his pale lips, violet eyes twinkling happily. As the cart continued on, more bodies were being added every now and then as the chants and chimes never changed. The only difference was the moans sounding here and there around the cart. Though not of mourning did these poor people wail.
You could see one man crawling along in a horrid coughing fit, another was too weak to simply pull his head out from a wicker basket. More men crawled along pathetically, tumbling over one another. Eventually, the three men powering the wheelbarrow of bodies collapsed from their own hunger and fatigue, evident in the whole village. Yet, the chant and chimes never changed as another body was added to the pile. The weary men picked themselves up and continued wheeling the pile of bodies onward, wheezing now. They managed to rest as a man came up with another man draped over his shoulder.
This new comer actually seemed relatively well. His chin length blond hair swayed easily, but deep green eyes were dulled slightly with fatigue. Still, he carried himself with pride and a stern look upon his face.
"Here's one; found the moron on my property and got him with my throwing knives. I'm pretty sure no one minds really," he spoke nonchalantly.
"Nine frence," the keeper said sweetly. Suddenly, the 'dead' man spoke.
"I'm not dead!" He shrieked. Chestnut hair swayed frantically as he fervently swung his head side to side, a lone curl on the side bouncing.
"What?" The beige haired keeper asked.
"Oh nothing. Here's your nine frence," the blond replied quickly. The man on his should quickly spoke up again.
"I'm not dead! I want pasta!"
"Hey... he said he's not dead..." a sudden frown found its way to the violet-eyed man.
"Yes he is!" The blond insisted.
"I'm not!" The brunette pleaded.
"He isn't?" The keeper inquired.
"Well, he will be soon, he was stabbed," the blonde's hand with the money was still outstretched.
"I'm getting better!" The carried man supplied.
"No you're not!" The blond hissed back, "You'll be stone dead in a moment!"
"I can't take him like that," the keeper frowned, "it's against regulations,"
"I don't want to go on the cart! Please! I just want pasta!"
"Oh, don't be such a baby!" The green eyed man snapped.
"I can't take him," the keeper informed again.
"I feel fine!" The brunette insisted.
"Well, do us a favor!" The blond almost pleaded.
"I can't..." the platinum blond sighed.
"Can you make a round in a couple of minutes then? It won't be long," the blond spoke ominously.
"No, I've got to get down to the Robinsons, they lost nine today!" The care free smile was suddenly back on the keeper's face.
"Then when's your next round?" The blond was scowling deeply.
"Thursday,"
"I think I'll go for a walk!" The brunette tried to convince.
"You're not fooling anyone, you know. Look, isn't there something you can do?" The blond sighed, near the end of his patience.
"I'm scared! Waaaah! I'm scared!" The brunette started chanting, the beige keeper stole a few glances around.
THWACK!
The keeper knocked the brunette dead with the faucet pipe as the blond quickly averted his eyes to not be a witness.
"Thank you, finally," with that, they loaded the brunette on the cart as well, "See you Thursday."
"Sure!" The violet eyed man chirped happily.
Just then, Gilbert and his lackey quickly passed through, a shudder suddenly running down Gilbert's spine at the sight of the platinum blond and his unnatural smile.
"Who's that?" The golden blond asked after the awesome party had passed.
"Hmm, who knows," the keeper answered vaguely, "Maybe a king?"
"Why?"
"He doesn't have a sickness nor blood splattered all over him," the beige haired man just continued to smile as the golden blond now backed away, feeling he might be joining the cart of dead bodies.
A/N: …Yes, I had to do the end as Russia, Switzerland and Italy xD Sorry to Italy fans, I love him, too, but Italy was the best fit and Switzerland is always firing at him (had to use knives though). France already has a role here ;P No idea what currency they were using, sorry ._.;
Hope you enjoyed and give me suggestions on roles! Some are already set, but I want to hear your guys' thoughts!