Authors' Note: Speed review again! ... Enjoy? xDD
Far away in the landlocked, desert country of Agrabakistan, the kingdom was in an uproar. The King and Queen were frantically praying to each of the 700 deities of the kingdom, from the Great Goddess of Flying Spaghetti to the Sparrow of Chatterboxes and Shooting Stars, all the way down to the Most Respectable God of Video Games and Spongebob Seasons, and all the way up to the Most Best and Greatest and Supreme Lord of the Universe, Chuck Adolf-Lenin-Mao-Cheese-Napoleon-Genghis-Caesar-Confucius-Arthur-Mozart-Fate-Shakespeare-Salami-Nippon-go-Chibi-Chibi-Kawaii-Disney-Alexander Norris the Great (Chuck A.L.M.C.N.G.C.C.A.M.F.S.S.N.C.C.K.D.A. Norris the Great for short - you can see why few people ever prayed to him despite him being the Most Best and Greatest and Supreme).
Once again, the most venerable Nurse Jafar and their darling son Prince Mercutio had vanished into thin air.
The humid marketplaces had been overturned. The rich villas had been searched. The icky slums- as icky as they were, guards had been sent to wade through all the dust and filfth, poking half-heartedly at the crumbling and overcrowded buildings.
Back in the palace, the King and Queen were pacing in their grand court, trying and failing to successfully get a prayer to Chuck A.L.M.C.N.G.C.C.A.M.F.S.S.N.C.C.K.D.A. Norris the Great- they always forgot the name halfway. But suddenly, the great double doors burst open to reveal a distraught Nurse Jafar stumbling in, her hair and clothes in disarray.
"Your Majesties! Your son- the Most Honorable Prince Mercutio- he has- he has-" she bent over, trying to regain her breath. "Ran away! Yet again! I tried to stop him, but he was too fast, and I can't find him- a thousand apologies! I deserve death for failing to take care of him!" She collapsed to the ground, whether prostrating herself of her own accord or simply falling over to exhaustion, no one knew. The Queen hurried over and helped the Nurse up.
"You mustn't blame yourself, Nurse," She murmured, sending for water and smelling salts as she helped the Nurse into a nearby chair. "Our Mercutio has always been the reckless boy."
"Reckless?" The Nurse exclaimed, flailing slightly. "The Prince is not just reckless, I fear- he may be possessed by the Devil Himself!"
A gasp and a shiver ran though those assembled at the court.
"Do you speak the truth, Nurse?" The King said after a moment of silence, shocked.
Nurse Jafar nodded vehemently. "Why else would he actively cause so much trouble- before he left, I could swear by the Great Goddess of Flying Spaghetti that I saw the Devil perch on the Prince's shoulder, whispering atrocities in his ear!"
Whispers hissed throughout the court, like wildfires.
"But... but what shall we do?" the King wailed. "I am at my wit's end! Nurse Jafar, always have you been there for us, dost thou not have golden advice to offer in this time of great need?" He fell to his knees, clutching at his greying hair - or lack thereof, considering Mercutio's antics had caused him to resort to this anguished action so many times.
"Calm down, dear," the Queen said soothingly, patting the King's shoulder - but the worried frown did not leave her face. "Nurse Jafar, what do you suggest?"
Nurse Jafar smiled, the rulers missing the unnervingly sinister look in her eyes as she did so. "It is a very simple thing. The Devil hast possessed Prince Mercutio because he is mentally and physically too weak; Palace life has not prepared him for the challenges he has to face! If Your Majesty were to send the Prince away, he would learn to be strong, live independently and become a great leader fit for Agrabakistan! The challenge of living away from the comforts of the Palace and his parents will cause him to develop and grow so much stronger and be able to resist the Devil's influence-"
The King's wail of anguish rang through the court. "My darling 'Cutio! I don't want to send him awayyyyyyyyyy!"
"Now, now, your majesty, it is for his own good," Nurse Jafar said comfortingly. "He will understand better how serious governing a country is! And maybe, how valuable good clothes are - and cosplay outfits too," she murmurred, her grin widening as she whispered the last part under her breath.
"Did you say something, Nurse?"
"Oh, nothing."
"This is kind of fun, actually!"
Tybalt cast a sideways glance at Dumbass, wondering what kind of noble finds the life of a street urchin fun.
...then again, he had a point. Nobles probably didn't get to do this (they didn't know what they were missing on)
Flinging the last of the ceramic pots into the chaos, Tybalt flopped back. The two boys surveyed the damage with great satisfaction and not the least bit of remorse.
Five stalls in flames. Turtles running rampant as their seller tried to retrieve them. Watermelons still rolling down the impromptu ramp Mercutio had made out of several expensive carpets. People screaming. Rabbits hopping about. Some random woman crying over the death of her dates.
All was well in the world.
...except for the fact that Tybalt had been well-matched by this boy - where the flames were concerned, probably even outmatched. He had never seen another boy as good as he was in creating chaos- let alone a rich kid. What kind of education Dumbass had to equip him with which skills was beyond Tybalt. Maybe he ran away on a regular basis.
Tybalt approved of that idea somewhat, but dwelled longer on the fact that he had been well-matched, perhaps outmatched. It didn't sit well with him. But he didn't have time to contemplate how things could have degraded to his being out-troublemade by a noble of all people, not when his ears picked out the distinctive timbre of the Palace Head Guard shouting and leading his stampede of guards their way.
"Great," he muttered to himself. "Come on!" he called to Dumbass, leaping agilely from the rooftop to the adjacent one. Dumbass was less proficient at the art- he tottered and stumbled, nearly missing the rooftop altogether. (Tybalt couldn't help but feel very smug about this.)Grabbing the kid's hand, he dragged him through a series of wild street acrobatics - sliding down clotheslines, bouncing off stall awnings - and was rather satisfied to hear Dumbass' shrieks of fear.
And then - "Gotcha!" He felt Dumbass' hand get ripped from his grip, but didn't have time to turn around before he crashed into the very, very muscular body of a palace guard. Over Dumbass' screeching in the background, the guard grunted: "Well, what have we here?"
Uh-oh.
"A little street rat," the guard sneered, "consorting with - HOLY MOTHER OF CHUCK A.L.M.C.N.G.C.C.A.M.F.S.S.N.C.C.K.D.A. NORRIS! OUCH MY EYE!"
Tybalt wiped the stray drop of spit from the corner of his mouth. "You can actually remember the whole thing?" he asked absently, taking in with satisfaction the accuracy of his handiwork. Then again, he'd had a lot of practice. After all, Agrabakistan had a lot of llamas. Or camels. He couldn't tell the difference, didn't really care. The point was, they were really expert senseis in the fine art of spitting at people's faces.
"Sweeeeet! Streetrat, you gotta teach me how to do that sometime!" Dumbass hollered from behind Tybalt. With his own guard distracted, he turned to grab Dumbass and run- only to realize that Dumbass was swinging a foot off the ground, hanging by his rather expensive collar in the grip of another guard.
Then a large hand grabbed the back of his poor excuse of a shirt. "Don't think of running, boy! You've caused enough trouble in Agrabakistan, probably enough for a lifetime behind bars-"
The guard was interupted by a high-pitched squeal. Wincing, he turned to roar at his fellow guard. "MY EARS! Can it, you-"
"But sir! This is the Prince of Agrabakistan!"
"The Prince of WHAT?" Tybalt yelled, all wittiness gone in his surprise. "DUMBASS, I THOUGHT YOU WERE KIDDING!" He whipped his head around, glaring at the Dumbass in shock. Dumbass simply shot him a winning smile and winked in an I-told-you-so-way.
The palace guard rolled his eyes. "All right, drama's over. Street rat, to the dungeons with ya. Your Highness," the guard grinned evilly, "well, you're in a lot of hot water."
Prince Dumbass grinned. "Actually, I'm quite dry. Would you like to get wet though?"
The palace guard frowned. "Wha-"
SPLASH!
The guards let go, hands flying up to their faces; Tybalt dropped to the ground. He looked up and - oh, this was a change. For once, he wasn't the one saving the stupid monkey's butt. The talking monkey, perched on an overhanging clothesline and holding a bucket of mudwater, grinned and gestured for Tybalt to flee.
Taking advantage of the distraction, Tybalt bolted, weaving in between the two guards and their flailing arms. "Come on, Prince Dumbass!" He tried to grab Prince Dumbass' head, but he couldn't quite reach- nevermind. Prince Dumbass would follow. He couldn't be that much of a dumbass not to.
Tyalt ran as quickly as he could, stretching out an arm in a skywards gesture; Paris swung down from the clothesline and landed expertly on his shoulder. The two only stopped when they had half the city between themselves and the guards. Bending over, Tybalt panted, "Well, thanks so much for all the trouble, Prince Dumbas," he snarled sarcastically. "Why didn't you tell me you really were royalty? Though, you're pretty good for a rich snob, I'll give you..."
Shit, he did not just say that to the Prince of Agrabakistan.
He glanced behind, bracing himself for a barrage of smartass insults, realizing all to late that the Prince did tell him that he was, well, the Prince...
"...Prince Dumbass?"
Oh, shucks.
"PARIS!"
Paris stared at him. "Wait, so you leaving him behind wasn't a plan to fool the guards by splitting up?"
"No! No, no no!" Mercutio gave his father's luxurious sofa a violent kick. "NO ONE IS SENDING ME AWAY! I WANNA STAY HERE AND MESS WITH ALL OF YOUR LIVES! WHO AM I GONNA ANNOY IN THE DESERT?" he wailed.
The Queen rubbed her forehead. "No one, sweetheart. That's the exact point of sending you out there." The King let out another devastated screech, curled up into a ball on his sofa. He was ignored.
Mercutio pouted. Then he jumped on to his father's lap. "Daddy! You wouldn't!" he whined.
Just great, thought Nurse Jafar crossly. The old softie would let the brat have his way! She couldn't let that happen, now could she...
The King uncurled and clutched Mercutio to him with crushing force. "O-of course not, my d-darling C-Cut-tio- *sob* No one's going to hurt you, n-not with Daddy around-"
Mercutio smirked evilly, trying not to suffocate. The battle was wo-
"But darling," the Queen cut in. Nurse Jafar quickly capitalized on this and stepped forward, prising Mercutio away from the King. "Darling, Mercutio wouldn't be able to grow up independently if we keep him here. You want him to grow up into a great ruler of Agrabakistan, don't you? He needs to learn the value of hard work and the best way to do that would-"
As the Queen lectured, the Nurse pulled Mercutio close and tugged at his ear. "Last chance, brat;" she hissed. "Come on, the dresses aren't that bad- or would you rather hang, beg, starve, die in the desert?"
"I'd rather have a sex orgy with two llamas and an ostrich!" Mercutio hissed back.
Nurse Jafar blinked. "How is that even possi- Never mind! I mean it when I said it was your last chance, brat! The Hatsune Miku costume really isn't that bad. You didn't mind the Sailor Moon costume a few years back!"
"That's 'cause I was five, you sick demoness!" Mercutio snapped.
"Mercutio, is everything okay?" the Queen asked nervously.
"No, everything is NOT okay!" The King bawled, and the Queen was distracted once more.
"Well?" Nurse Jafar turned back to Mercutio.
"I will not wear a Hatsune Miku costume, I will not wear a Vampire Knight costume, I will not cosplay as Kagamine Rin or Haruno Sakura ever, and I sure as hell will NEVER wear a Japanese schoolgirl uniform!" Mercutio declared, his voice rising in agitation.
Nurse Jafar raised an eyebrow coldly. "A pity, you would've looked so adorable, Mah-Cutie... ah, well, banishment it is. GUARDS!"
"Wait, no! Nurse Jafar, you can't!" The King cried jumping up. He really was quite a pitiful sight, tears streaming down and all.
"Darling, darling," the Queen said soothingly.
"Take the Prince to the borders. Give him some supplies and make sure he doesn't come back within three years," Nurse Jafar commanded smugly.
"Daddy, nooooooo!"
"Cutioooooooooooo! Leggo, stupid wife!"
"Honey! Calm down, this is-"
"DADDYYYYYYYYYY!"
"CUTIOOOOOOOOOOO!"
"...Hubby, this is very unbecoming of you."
In the corner, Nurse Jafar rubbed her hands together, grinning gleefully.
"DADAAAAAAAAAAA!"
"CUTIOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
"Stop this tomfoolery at once, my dear! Mercutio, go now before your father floods the room with his tears! Guards! Hurry up or you're fired!"
"DADDYYYYYYYY!"
"Mercutio, shut up!"
