DIARY OF MORDRED:
Co-written with HansWienerschitzel4000
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
This came about when my friend and Compatriot, who will be known for the purposes of this fic as "HansWienerschitzel" played the role of Mordred in Camelot in Summer Stock. He is responsible for both the original idea and about half of the entries. I am reasonable for the other half. You know, the funny half. (Put the cane down, Hans, I'm joking.)
Before we begin our trip down insanity lane, several people must be thanked. This fic would not exist without the authors of Camelot, Alan Jay Lerner and Frederick Lowe, T.H. White, author of The Once and Future King, which Camelot is based on, and Roddy McDowall, who originated the role of Mordred on Broadway. Wherever you are boys, we extend our thanks and our sincerest apologies.
As well, a huge thank you must go to the author L'Ange d'Erik, who's fanfiction The Diary of an Erik (which can be found in the Phantom of the Opera Section on this fic)was pretty much the reason this fic exists: We read it, loved it, stole the format shamelessly and without permission, and took it for our own purposes, so the least we could do would be to plug her hilariously written diary (which spawned an online business). And of course, where would we be without Mordred himself, the evilest, the coolest, and the handsomest villain in medieval literature. Thank you.
Okay, Mordred, I read your stupid intro. Now can you put the sword away and let me get on with this?
DISCLAIMER: We own nothing except a deep sense of shame in every sense of the word.
DIARY OF MORDRED
JANUARY: PART I
January 1st, 1392
Dear Diary-
Have decided to start keeping diary after realizing I have no one to pour my soul out as psychiatrists will not been invented for another 600 years.
Allow me to introduce myself: I am Prince Mordred, illegitimate son of Arthur Pendragon, King of Britain. Actually, I would be Prince Modred if I wasn't illegitimate.
Damn my non-princely status.
Arthur conceived me with my mother, Queen Moraguse, sister of Morgon le Fay, because she got him drunk one night. My Mum kicks ass.
Anyway, am writing because Arthur (who I am forced to refer to as "my Liege" in public, stupid git) refused me permission to go the mall to carouse with my evil cronies.
Damn him.
We'll see how he likes it when I stage a hostile takeover of his kingdom. Camelot will be mine!
Weather still continues charmingly.
Mordred
January 2nd, 1392
Dear Diary—
I hate Lancelot.
I hate his foppish ways.
He hogged all the cranberries at breakfast today.
When I asked him to pass me the cranberries, he had eaten all of them.
Damn him.
This is Arthur's second in command, for god's sake, and he's a cranberry loving fop.
I should be Arthur's second in command: after all, I am a cranberry loving evil mastermind…person… thingy…
Am considering growing a mustache—maybe Guenevere will like me more.
Mordred
January 3rd, 1392
Dear Diary—
I'm very bored today.
I think I am going to make vegetable medley.
We Scots know how to make good vegetable medley.
Sir Agravaine told me I should make boar instead.
Told Agravaine to make it himself.
He did.
It was terrible.
Damn him.
Mordred
January 4th, 1392
Dear Diary—
Sir Dinadan told me he liked my dress today.
Told him, for the 58th time, that it was not a dress, it was a robe
He said "Same difference."
Modern fashion lost on knights.
I think I'll put raisins in his porridge tomorrow. Dinadan is allergic to Raisins.
Hahaha.
Mordred
January 5th, 1392
Dear Diary—
Turns out it was Sir Lionel who is allergic to raisins. Dinadan actually likes them, and thanked me for putting them in.
Damn.
Okay, new evil plan. Spiders in his bedsheets. That'll make him jump.
Hahahaha.
Mordred
January 6th, 1392
Dear Diary—
Decided that spiders were too clichéd.
So instead I put in lots of ladybugs. Go me.
Unfortunately, Dinadan was playing with them all day; seems he rather likes the spotted red beasts of the jungle.
Why doesn't anything bother this man?
Mordred
January 8th, 1392
Dear Diary—
The mustache is coming in very nicely.
Arthur commented on it today at the meeting.
I asked why he hasn't grown one.
He says it's not in the laws of kingliness.
Damn him and all his lawful laws of lawfuldom.
That last one wasn't even a real word, but Mordred does not care about real words! CAMELOT WILL BE MINE!
Mordred
January 13th, 1392
Dear Diary-
Dinadan continues to thwart evil plans.
He is now touring England with his Ladybug Circus Show of Spectaculardom, stops in Camelot, Kent, West Sussex, Bath and Manchester.
Am required to attend show next week by Arthur. Figures. He thinks that if he has to suffer, we all have to suffer.
Stupid Dad.
Mordred
January 15th, 1392
Dear Diary,
FINALLY got to make my vegetable medley
Would have been better, but Lancelot hogged all the corn, so was unable to put any in. Stupid Corn-hogging git.
King Pellinore very disappointed with my cornless medley.
Told me that corn was god's greatest gift to mankind, and wasting it was a sin.
He will be the first to die.
Mordred
January 17th, 1392
Dear Diary—
The mustache is growing in very nicely.
Perhaps Guenevere will notice.
Arthur noticed it and said, "Mordred, where did that mustache come from?"
I told him I bought it on E-bay. The King was not amused.
Lancelot said it was almost as macho as his sword.
I think I'll put makeup on him in his sleep.
Mordred
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