Author's Note: Okay, so this is a fun little thing I wanted to do in between writing chapters for my other story (Fire and Ice, Light and Shadow). I was sitting in my room thinking about the movie, when I thought about Hans and how he was sent back to his 12 brothers. What would he do, now that his first plan to be king failed? Does he just give up on life? Nay, I say. Hans is not the type to give up! Sure, he might be bitter about the whole Arendelle thing, but he would not give up on life, or being king. He'd just have to be a different type of king, and rule a different type of kingdom. But first, he needs a job. So, with trusty newspaper in hand, he hunts. What job will he end up with? And will he rise high enough to become king of the workplace? Find out after these short messages:

I dropped my pencil...
Just kidding.
It was actually a pen.

And so it begins...

"Arendelle this, Arendelle that!" Glass broke as a newspaper was hurled out the second story window of a castle in the Southern Isles. It landed on a rose bush, who did not much enjoy the rude interruption. The rose bush, you see, was in the middle of a date with the raspberry bush next to it, not that the anyone cared.

"You know how much I hate reading about them!" said an angry voice. "Never, ever put a newspaper in front of my sight again unless I command you to, you hear me?"

"B-b-but Prince Hans, you sp-specifically told me, in your exact words 'Go get me a newspaper, peasant'. S-so I did!"

"I don't recall ever saying that, that way. I said it in a much more amicable, less stuttery tone."

"As y-you say, Prince Hans."

"Now go get me another newspaper, peasant."

"B-but… okay."

Ten minutes later

"Arendelle this, Arendelle that!" Glass broke as another newspaper was hurled out another window on the second floor of a castle in the Southern Isles. It landed on an unexpecting rabbit who was so startled at being attacked that it fainted.

"I have had it with all of these articles lately, praising the bee-you-teeful queen and her darling princess sister. Blast them, blast them all!" A third window broke as a boot was hurled through it, striking the same rabbit from earlier, this time on the knee - poor thing, having just recovered from being struck by a flying newspaper.

"Would… would you like me to get you another newspaper, Prince Hans?"

"Yes, yes. But be quick about it!" Prince Hans said, falling back into his chair. He propped his feet up on the table and crossed them; booted foot below, bootless foot above. The beleaguered servant shuffled away. "Peasant!" He added, hoping the man heard. What a despicable creature.

Hans found himself humming the chorus to 'Let It Go' by Queen Elsa of Arendelle. A continental hit. An instant classic. "No! No! No!" He jumped to his feet stomping. "I hate that song!" He collapsed onto his bed and sobbed into his pillows. So infectious… So… catchy…. Heavy breathing ensued. Get a hold of yourself, Hans. You're royalty! It's in your blood. He stood up and walked calmly, but awkwardly - having only one boot did that, to his mirror. He looked at himself.

I'm so handsome. He concluded. He formed pistols with his forefingers and thumbs, pointing them at his reflection. "Hey there, hotshot." he hissed, winking. "You can do anything." He wove his fingers through his hair, then reached with his other hand for his comb, quickly reverting the ruffled tufts back to their perfect state. "You don't need some princess to be a king. You are a king." He turned his head, admiring his sideburns. "King of sexy." He had just bucked his hips when he noticed the reflection of his wretched servant standing at the door.

"Did you bring the newspaper?" he asked, irritated.

The insufferable man dragged his feet forward, holding out the newspaper. Hans snatched it, noticing the front page had been ripped out. "What is this, a joke?" The man quickly backed up, holding his palms out defensively. "N-no, my Prince. I merely removed the parts about Arendelle."

Glass did not break as a third newspaper soared through the hole in the window created by the first. A rose bush lost its only rose; the raspberry bush next to it ruffled its leaves.

Thirty minutes later

"Look bro, you gotta get a job." said Benson, Hans' idiot of an eleventh brother. "I know that." Hans said, not looking at the man. How does he live with himself, looking like that?

"It's easy as pie. Gimme that paper." Benson spat out his toothpick, then curled his finger at Hans. Hans threw the newspaper at his head. Unfortunately, Benson caught it.

"Alright, check it out." Benson flipped through to the classified job listings section. As he read through each entry, he peered up. Hans felt like throwing up every time the man looked his way. "Let me ask you something, brother." Hans said, feeling his stomach churn.

"Ask away, little man."

Hans' blood boiled. "Okay. Do you have mirrors in your castle?"

Benson spat out a single harsh laugh. "Heck yeah, my castle is pretty much made out of mirrors. Hans' mouth fell open. "And… they're all completely intact?" Benson raised his right brow. The right portion of his 'm' shaped mustache raised as well. Hans gagged. "Of course they are." Benson said. "Liar." Hans coughed.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." Hans said, thumping his chest with his fist. Benson looked at him quizzically. "Okay… Anyways." Benson threw the paper flat on the table. He pointed at an entry with his forefinger. "That's the one." He said. Hans stood up, peering over his brother's shoulder. Thankfully, he didn't smell as bad as he looked. Hans read the small print. "Wanted: Stagehand".

Hans blew air through his lips. "Child's play." he said. His brother laughed, clapping him on the back. "Thatta boy. Let's get you hooked up with an interview first thing tomorrow." Hans' eye twitched as he nodded. "Yeah." His brother left.

Hans stood up and unzipped his white coat. He walked calmly out the door, coat in his gloved left hand. He quickened his pace to a jog. He turned a corner. He ran to the hearth, took one last look at his jacket and then burned it.