Disclaimer: These guys and what they're saying do not belong to me. I did not make up either. I merely made up the situation. Characters you've seen before (i.e. Artemis Entreri, Drizzt Do'Urden, Jarlaxle, Wulfgar, and anyone else I kidna—ahem. Sorry. Anyone else I borrow.) belong to R.A. Salvatore. What these characters are saying belong to Avenue Q. Mwahahahaha!
A/N Okay, so even if you didn't review, you can't fool me and make me think you didn't click on it. You see, I have spies everywhere… (Not really, but that sounds so much better than "I can check my Stats!!!!11!!")
I wanted to get out one more chapter before I get overloaded with schoolwork and can hardly find the time to sleep, much less write. And I may do both this song-fic-thingie (whatever you want to call it) as well as a humorous, er, "romance." (Wink wink, nudge nudge.)
Enjoy!
The More You Love Someone
a fanfiction
by Tiggermyk
(with a bit of help
from Irish Nobody)
Cattie-brie, adopted daughter of Bruenor Battlehammer, held an outfit up to her body.
"Well?" she asked.
"I don't know," Delly, wife of Wulfgar, unofficially adopted son of Bruenor Battlehammer, said slowly. "It's just not…you."
"Sure it is. I'm a princess, remember?"
"Yes, but you're not a princess in disguise," Delly replied.
"But Princess-In-Disguise Outfits are fifty percent off!" Cattie-brie protested. "And it comes complete with a dozen yards of linen to wrap your breasts so you can seem more like a boy. Plus it has hair styling tips for fitting long locks of hair underneath a boy's cap."
"That would be very helpful," Delly admitted. "But you aren't a Princess-In-Disguise, and you'd be giving everyone a false impression if you dressed like that. And anyway," she added with a discreet clearing of her throat, "you'd need at least two dozen yards of linen."
There was a moment of contemplative silence as both women looked at the breasts in question. Then Cattie-brie sighed and reluctantly put the outfit back on the rack.
"Yes, you're right," she conceded grudgingly. "Oooh, what about this?"
This happened to be three-piece Barbarian Woman outfit: bra, panties, and strategically ripped thigh-length skirt. The tag proclaimed it was one hundred percent faux wolverine fur, and that buying the complementary thigh-high one hundred percent faux leather boots at the same time got you ten percent off the lot.
"Oh, I don't know," Delly hedged. Then she grinned. "Try it on!"
"Whee!" Cattie-brie darted off for the changing rooms, her find clutched tightly to her chest. Said chest did amazing jiggles and shimmies as she bounced across the room, and several men accompanying their wives got hit on the arm as she passed—even the ones who weren't really looking, just sort-of looking.
Delly hung out around the changing rooms for a little while and seriously considered buying the Milkmaid-Turned-Princess outfit (complementary milk pail included) or the Devious Sorceress outfit (with a plunging neckline that the tag promised would "distract all enemies to the point of inability to attack, and turn all would-be lackeys into true lackeys who would be more than willing to sacrifice themselves for you!").
"Er, Delly," Cattie-brie called out while Delly was inspecting a forty percent off Female Soldier Breastplate (complete with poked-out nipples for chilly weather), "Could you help me with this thing?"
"Sure," Delly called back, cautiously entering the changing room only to see Cattie-brie simultaneously holding up her masses of auburn hair with upraised arms and trying to peer over her shoulder at her back. The bra strap was twisted to the point of inability to snap it closed. Delly labored for a moment over the strap, finally figuring it out. She stepped back, beaming.
"There you go!" she said happily. "Now come out and—"
"Dammit, I forgot my money was with my clothes at the inn! Aarrrgh!"
Both women froze at the familiar voice of Artemis Entreri, staring at each other with wide, horrified eyes.
"Er, sir?" a timid voice asked; undoubtedly he was an employee.
"What?" he snarled.
"If—if you don't mind my asking—why are you dressed in—"
"Because of those damn drow," he said with such vehemence that the two women flinched. They fully expected him to leave it at that, but to their surprise, he continued.
"Oh, yes, there I was, minding my own business in my bath, and what comes barging in my room? Jarlaxle and Drizzt, two of the most annoying black-skinned elves this side of the Nine Hells," he ranted. "And what are they there for? Not to convince me to go off facing undead dragons and living castles, or to embrace the world with a song in my heart and a smile on my face. Oh, no. They want to bed down with me—oh, don't flinch like that," he snapped at the poor employee. "Haven't you ever heard of free love? Apparently elves are bi and enjoy giving out samples. Gods above," he muttered, his voice fading as he moved off, "I'll have to walk around like this for the rest of the day. The drunken idiots just couldn't mind their own business, could they? Oh, no, of course not…"
Delly and Cattie-brie stared at each other for a moment. Then Cattie-brie, adopted daughter to Bruenor Battlehammer and girlfriend to Drizzt Do'Urden, Ranger of the North, burst into tears.
-------------------------------------
"Oh, D-D-Delly," Cattie-brie sobbed into her chicken noodle soup. "I just c-c-c-can't believe he'd d-d-d-do something like—like—like—"
And she wailed inconsolably, sipping at her soup.
"There, there," Delly said kindly, patting Cattie-brie's hand. "I'm sure it's all a misunderstanding."
"Misunderstanding?" Cattie-brie cried out. "How could it be? That was Artemis Entreri saying those things. Why would he say stuff like that if it weren't true?"
"Because he's an assassin who hates us?" Delly suggested weakly.
Cattie-brie sobbed louder, making the surrounding patrons of the café scoot their chairs back a little.
"Delly, I hate him! I hate him! Oooh, but I love him too, dammit all!"
"Cattie-brie, don't you know? Loving and hating are the same thing."
Cattie-brie stopped sobbing long enough to gape at Delly. "Huh?"
"Listen," Delly said earnestly, "I know all about this kind of thing. Believe me, the more you love someone, the more you want to kill 'em; the more you love someone, the more he makes you cry. You may try to make peace with them by loving them, and that's because love's so strong you just want to make him die!"
Cattie-brie looked confused but interested. Encouraged, Delly continued her enlightened view of love.
"The more you love him, the more he makes you crazy. The more you love him, the more you want to see him dead, see? Sometime in the future you'll see him fat and lazy, and all you'll want is Aegis Fang to hit him on the head. And that's love."
"Love," Cattie-brie repeated in a murmur.
"And hate," Delly added.
"Hate," Cattie-brie repeated thoughtfully.
"They're like two brothers—" Delly said, inspired.
"Brothers?"
"—who go out on a date!"
"Say what?"
Delly was really into it now, and went on spiritedly. "Yes, where one of them goes, the other one follows, and if you invite love your love will also bring sorrow."
"I see," Cattie-brie said slowly.
"The more you love someone, the more you want to kill him!" Delly said enthusiastically, adding broad gestures. "Loving and killing fit like, like, like a hand in a glove!"
"Hmmm," Cattie-brie said thoughtfully, sipping slowly at her soup.
"So if there's someone you want to kill so badly," Delly said, wrapping it up, "Go and find and get him. But don't kill him, 'cause chances are good he's your one true love."
Cattie-brie put down her spoon and smiled at Delly. Delly smiled back.
"Y'know, Delly, I'm really glad I talked to you. You've really cleared things up for me."
"Good," Delly said, beaming. "I'm always here to help."
"Now, if you don't mind," Cattie-brie said, rising. "I'm off to kill Drizzt."
Delly nodded, still beaming. "Yes, good, go—what?" Delly leaped to her feet, a horrified expression on her face, and stared after Cattie-brie's back.
"Wait!" she cried out. "Wait! You missed my point! Cat-tie-brieeee!"
A/N Yes, I know Delly is dead, and that she never met Artemis Entreri. But I figure since I have the infamously grouchy Artemis Entreri walking around in fuzzy pink bunny slippers and a bathrobe—in essence, am ignoring the cannon in spades—I can claim Delly isn't dead and that she was in the same math class as AE while in high school. And believe it or not, I like Cattie-brie—she just happens to be incredibly easy to poke fun at.
Once more, here are the actual lyrics:
The More You Ruv Someone, by Avenue Q
Kate Monster:
Why can't people get along and love each other, Christmas Eve?
Christmas Eve:
You think getting along same as loving?
Sometimes love right where you hating most, Kate Monster.
Kate Monster:
Huh?
Christmas Eve:
The more you love someone,
The more you want to kill 'em.
The more you love someone,
The more he make you cry
Though you are try
For making peace
With them and loving,
That's why you love so strong
You like to make him die!
The more you love someone,
The more he make you crazy.
The more you love someone,
The more you wishing him dead!
Sometime you look at him
And only see fat and lazy,
And wanting baseball bat
For hitting him on his head!
Love
Kate Monster:
Love
Christmas Eve:
And hate
Kate Monster:
And hate
Christmas Eve:
They like two brothers
Kate Monster:
Brothers
Christmas Eve:
Who go on a date
Kate Monster:
Who...what?
Christmas Eve:
Where one of them goes,
Other one follows
You inviting love
He also bringing sorrows
Kate Monster:
Ah, yes.
Christmas Eve:
The more you love someone,
The more you want to kill 'em.
Loving and killing
Fit like hand in glove!
Kate Monster:
Hand in glove.
Christmas Eve:
So if there someone
You are wanting so
To kill 'em.
You go and find him.
And you get him.
And you no kill him.
'Cause chances good
Both:
He is your love.
