A/N: This is, admittedly, rather stupid. But whatever; it tickles my funny bone. This fic features the Long Patrol from the novel The Long Patrol. Imagine that. I haven't brushed up on my Redwall lingo since Eulalia!, so I barely attempted harespeech so as not to murder anything or be murdered in return. This fic includes the lyrics to Relient K's Gibberish, which rather fits the hares. They're in bold. Neither the brilliant song or the brilliant Redwall books belong to me. Enjoy!
The Long Patrol marched on toward Redwall Abbey; determined to get there in time to warn them of the vermin danger and also to sample the famous Redwall cuisine. This last had all the hares' mouths watering and their paws marching double time. As they soldiered, the warriors discussed life in the Long Patrol with the eager young Tamello De Fformello Tussock.
Turry was currently expounding on the cruelty of sergeants. "-But if you're 'specially lucky, y' might get arg wu sentafinticate." He winked at his brother, who nodded gravely and added, "Nar dunderford. But y' gotta get lucky."
Tammo looked from one to the other, puzzled. "What?"
Sergeant Torgoch jumped into the teasing of the newcomer with both large footpaws. "Aye, I 'ad a young whippersnapper once who didn't like to polish 'is boots. Had him bida menti kosticated 'till he interserd. Poor chap," he said with a theatrical shudder.
"I was thorphilliate stinded when I was a cadet," Riffle commiserated. "Never dropped m' saber again on training drills." He gave Tammo a cautioning look. "Remember that, and keep y' chin up, old chap."
"Yilla billa zay," muttered Twayblade. "You're scaring 'im."
"If he's going t' run with the Long Patrol," hollered Morio vehemently, "then he's bally well going to learn what it means to wentora yate!"
"Paravillintiniay!" Major Perigord hollered back at them from his position at point, not wanting to miss out on the good-natured ribbing they were giving the young hare.
Tammo, who was becoming more and more nervous as the discussion went on over his head, timidly raised a paw. "Paravillintiniay?" he asked.
Every eye met his and every voice echoed, "Of course!"
"Oh, right," the young De Fformello Tussock said quietly, lowering his paw. "It all makes sense now, sorry..."
Tare rolled his eyes at Pasque and commented, "Seems quite dorga orpha, eh, Pasque old gel?"
"More dorga billa, I'd say," the pretty haremaid responded with a twinkle in her dark eyes.
"Dorga orpha!" Tare insisted.
"You're both right, so quit arguing or you'll find yourselves stifaleare faster'n you can blink!" Morio snapped.
Tare paid him no mind. "Dorga orpha!"
"Dorga billa!"
Midge Manycoats draped a paw around Tammo's shoulders and whispered in his ear, "Don't worry, old sport, they don't mean anything by it. Just some tonalation fonamere."
Russe Nodrey finally had enough of the nonsense and thwacked Tare in the back of the head with her stick. "Owch!" he yelped, rubbing the sore spot. "What was that for?"
The roving squirrel had annoyance written all over her face. "Stop talking gibberish or just stop talking!"
"But-"
"Stop talking gibberish or just stop talking!"
"We were only-"
"Stop talking gibberish or just stop talking!"
"Russa marm-"
"Stop talking gibberish or just stop talking now!" the old squirrel roared. Silence fell and the Long Patrol marched on in subdued quiet, cowed by Russa's annoyance.
Russa made her way up to the front to march alongside Perigord. They went on for a while in silence. Then Russa said, "If I had one wish, I don't know what I'd wish for. But if I had a million zillion wishes, I'd use one to let you know that gibberish is not a nice way to talk to all your friends."
The Major's ears flushed with embarrassment and he mumbled, "Er, yes, quite right, marm. Just a bit of harmless teasing, nothing meant by it, y' know..."
Later that day, after Russa explained to Tammo that the Long Patrol vetrans were only teasing and confusing him, the young hare decided to join into the nonsense. He bounced over to Turry and asked, "So if an officer tells you to mork swax or you're ippen reedy yufftabar, what d'you say to that?"
Turry grinned and shook his head. "I'd be higgerd. What about you, Tare?"
"You really should quillip ernigrade, but I knew one gel who went du wellinshar."
"And?"
"She's a bloody hero, she is. Went down lirp crawn, xyfa gourk all the way."
Midge Manycoats shot them a confused look. "What are you all on about now?"
The young hares grinned up at him. "Jawinstabray, Midge!" Tammo said, tipping him a wink.
"Right..." Midge said cautiously. "Well, the Major wanted us to venaldo urp the camp, so-"
"Paravillintiniay?" Pasque asked, overhearing.
"Paravillintiniay!" Midge echoed in confirmation.
The Major, who had completely missed Tammo's understanding of the joke and did not want to risk Russa's wrath again, stalked over and said to them icily, "Stop talking gibberish or just stop talking!"
"But-"
"Stop talking gibberish or just stop talking!"
"We were only-"
"Stop talking gibberish or just stop talking!"
"Major sah-"
"Stop talking gibberish or just stop talking now!" the monocled officer cried, throwing up his paws in frustration.
The younger hares fell silent, nodding their assent and saluting him. When Sinistra stalked off, they all fell about in giggles. Gasping for breath, Tammo sat up and said, "If I had one wish..."
"I don't know what I'd wish for," said Pasque.
"But if I had a million zillion wishes," Tammo continued, then looked to Russa, who had just walked up. The squirrel let something pass over her face that might have been the ghost of a smile as she finished the thought.
"I'd use one to let you know that gibberish is not a nice way to talk to all your friends."
"Boom boom tish!" finished Corporal Rubbadub concisely.