The Beast stormed ferociously to his lair in the West Wing. He was so incredibly angry, that when The Beast finally reached the door, he effortlessly ripped the damned thing off its hinges, and tossed it aside. How dare they refuse his invitation! He was the master of this castle, and they were only silly little girls. As The Beast entered his lair, his heightened sense of smell picked up the unmistakable odor of must and mildew. The unfortunate, cursed prince stomped about his quarters, kicking up dirt. He had been humiliated in front of his own servants. This was a disgrace. The more he thought about how the girls debased him, the more his massive body filled with rage, and he was never really skilled at containing it either. The Beast easily lifted an old, dilapidated chair and hurled it across the room. It hit the fall wall of the West Wing, and splintered into pieces far too many for The Beast to count. Was that a broken down coat rack? Not anymore. The Beast crushed it into oblivion with his fierce paws. What did he need a coat rack for anyway? He quickly surveyed the room with a critical eye. It was a mess. No, it was utter chaos. Clutter, debris, was everywhere! But The Beast didn't care. He was an animal, now, and animals belonged in zoos anyway.
"I ask nicely and they refuse," The Beast growled to himself, "what... what do they want me to do, beg?"
The Beast padded over to where the enchanted rose was sitting on a table, safely enclosed in a bell jar. He tenderly touched the smooth, glass casing for a moment. The rose was the only thread that was tying his sanity together. His twenty-first year had come. The rose would bloom no more. It would only continue to wilt, and so it was, with The Beast's own spirit. Laying nearby the bell jar, was a magic mirror that the Enchantress had also given him that fateful night. It was his window to the outside world, but for the first time, he would use it to see what was happening in his own home.
"Show me the girls," The Beast ordered the mirror.
There was an intense burst of a green tinged light, and The Beast shielded his eyes from the momentary brightness. When the light finally subsided, the mirror displayed the image of eight of the girls huddled together in one room. What were they doing together? Were they friends?
"The Master's not so bad once you get to know him. Why don't you give him a chance?" Madame Armoire lobbied.
"I don't want to get to know him," one of the girls stated.
"I don't want anything to do with him!" a brunette in a modest blue dress cried.
The Beast laid down the mirror in disgust, "I'm just fooling myself. They'll never see me as anything... but a monster."
Then his eyes caught sight of something hanging behind a worn, tattered curtain. The Beast pushed the fabric aside, and his eyes lit up with rage, while his heart was filled with pain. He was staring directly at an old portrait of himself. Who was that man, handsome and arrogant, seeming as if he hadn't a care in the world? This man was a stranger to him, now. The Beast extended his sharp, black claws, and teared away at the painting, disfiguring the pretentious fool. When the deed was finished, the beast let out a howl of rage, or was it agony? He couldn't tell the difference anymore.
Eight of the girls from L'académie de Agréable Demoiselles had accumulated in the room belonging to Belle and Isolé. They were all dreadfully tired, but not a single one of them could sleep, not even Rêverie. Shocking, yes, but hunger is excellent at keeping a person awake at night.
"Belle, J'ai faim," Sniffed Jovianne, as her eyes began to tear. Yes, even the bubbly Jovianne, was slipping into a dour mood.
"We're all hungry," Belle replied to the girl, "but we have to remain strong."
"My sister is very strong," Nouille remarked, "did you know that she's a world winning heavy weight lifter? I wonder where she ran off to, though."
Belle sighed at Nouille's absurdity. If the girl would only turn around, then she might find her sister was standing behind her all along. Belle stifled a yawn. She had to admit that she was on the verge of starving, but she had made a wise decision, urging the girls to refuse the beast's invitation. She had!
"I do not see why we must starve like deer caught in a long, bitter winter," Râleur griped, "we'll only die quicker this way."
"Râleur," Belle attempted to explain, "it was a necessary decision. We can't encourage that monster. We have to stand up for ourselves! Show him that we're not afraid."
"But I am afraid," Rêverie admitted.
"Yes," Belle faltered, but..."
"You never asked any of us our opinion," added Isolé.
Bell was stunned. Isolé, of all people, made an excellent point, but still she was the leader! Certain thing simply had to be done.
"Isolé, please try to understand..."
"So," Odieux interrupted, "are we supposed to never eat again?"
"We'd be thin as a rail!," gasped Nouille, "well, my sister has been meaning to lose a few pounds..."
"Oh, hush, you silly girl," Râleur steamed, "no one cares about your sister!"
At just that moment, Rêverie's stomach produced an enormous growl. Isolé was right. Belle hadn't asked the other girls how they wanted to deal with their little predicament. And Odieux was right! They couldn't possibly go on without eating forever. And what exactly was the point she was trying to prove? Belle didn't remember anymore. She couldn't ignore the facts any longer. They were hungry.
"All right," Belle relented, "help me rouse the other girls. We can go apologize to the beast, and maybe get something to eat."
Jovianne squealed, and hugged Belle tightly around her waist, "Oh, you have made me so happy! Merci beaucoup!"
"De rien," Belle sighed, pulling the girl off the lower half her her torso, "now, let's go."
As Belle lead her fellow girls of L'académie de Agréable Demoiselles through the drafty corridors, she rethought her original idea of apologizing to the crude monster. Perhaps it would be better to just find the kitchen and grab a quick bite. They could all deal with the beast in the morning. Belle paused just outside the kitchen door. It sounded like Mrs. Pots and Cogsworth were in the middle of a conversation.
"Well if you ask me, they were just being stubborn. After all, the master did say please."
"But if the master doesn't learn to control that temper, he'll never break the..."
Belle turned to the other girls, "I think we should come back later."
"Non," Râleur huffed angrily, "we are all hungry. We go in, now."
With that, Râleur forcefully pushed Belle through the door, and she landed flat on her face, directly in front of both Mrs. Pots and Cogsworth.
"Oh my," gasped the teapot, "are you all right, dear?"
"Yes, Mrs. Pots. Merci," Belle answered from her position on the floor, "we're all just a trifle hungry."
Belle stood to her feet, and dusted off her dress, and apron. No sooner had she finished, when Lumiere came scuttling through the door.
"The mademoiselles are hungry!" Lumiere repeated.
"They are!" cried Mrs. Pots, "Hear that? They're hungry! Stoke the fire, break out the sliver, wake the china!"
"No, no, no," Cogsworth whispered to the teapot, "remember what the master said."
"Oh, pish-posh," Mrs. Pots disregarded, "I'm not going to let the poor children go hungry."
"Oh all right," the mantle clock conceded, "a crust of bread, a glass of water, and then..."
"Cogsworth, I am surprised at you!" Lumiere chided, "They are not prisoners. They are our guests! We must make them feel welcome here."
"Well keep it down," ordered Cogsworth, "if the master finds out about this, it will be our necks!"
"Of course, of course," the candelabra lead the young women to a large dining table, and once they were all seated, added, "but what is dinner without a little music?"
"Music!" Cogsworth shouted in clear protest.
Lumiere ignored his old, uptight friend, and seemingly, out of nowhere, a spotlight was shined directly on him. It was a sign from the heavens! The mademoiselles were to have dinner with a show, tonight.
Lumiere:
Mes chéris Mademoiselles, it is with deepest pride
and greatest pleasure that we welcome you tonight.
And now we invite you to relax, let us pull up a
chair as the dining room proudly presents - your dinner!
Be our guests!
Be our guests!
Put our service to the test
Tie your napkins 'round your neck, chéris
And we provide the rest
Soup du jour
Hot hors d'oeuvres
Why, we only live to serve
Try the grey stuff
It's delicious
Don't believe me? Ask the dishes
They can sing
They can dance
After all, girls, this is France
And a dinner here is never second best
Go on, unfold your menus
Take a glance and then you'll
Be our guests
Oui, our guests
Be our guests
Lumiere and Chorus:
Beef ragout
Cheese souffle
Pie and pudding "en flambe"
Lumiere:
We'll prepare and serve with flair
A culinary cabaret!
You're alone
And you're scared
But the banquet's all prepared
No one's gloomy or complaining
While the flatware's entertaining
We tell jokes
I do tricks
With my fellow candlesticks
Chorus:
And it's all in perfect taste
That you can bet
Come on and lift your glass
You've won your own free pass
To be out guests
Lumiere:
If you're stressed
It's fine dining we suggest
Lumiere and Chorus:
Be our guests!
Be our guests!
Be our guests!
Lumiere:
Life is so unnerving
For a servant who's not serving
He's not whole without a soul to wait upon
Ah, those good old days when we were useful
Suddenly those good old days are gone
Ten years we've been rusting
Needing so much more than dusting
Needing exercise, a chance to use our skills
Most days we just lay around the castle
Flabby, fat and lazy
You walked in and oops-a-daisy!
Lumiere:
Be our guests!
Chorus:
Be our guests!
Meanwhile, Mrs. pots was excitedly chirping away in the kitchen. It had been far too long since they last had company, and this was the most important company off all. One of these girls was going to break the spell. Mrs. Pots could feel it!
Mrs Potts:
We have guests!
We have guests!
Sakes alive, well I'll be blessed!
Wine's been poured and thank the Lord
I've had the napkins freshly pressed
With dessert
They'll want tea
And my dear that's fine with me
While the cups do their soft-shoein'
I'll be bubbling, I'll be brewing
I'll get warm
Piping hot
Heaven's sakes! Is that a spot?
Clean it up! We want the company impressed
Chorus:
We've got a lot to do!
Mrs Potts:
Is it one lump or two?
For you, our guest!
Chorus:
They're our guests!
Mrs Potts:
They're our guests!
Chorus:
They're our guests!
Be our guests! Be our guests! Be our guests!
Chorus:
Be our guests
Be our guests
Our command is your request
It's been years since we've had anybody here
And we're obsessed
With your meal
With your ease
Yes, indeed, we aim to please
While the candlelight's still glowing
Let us help you
We'll keep going
Course by course
One by one
'Til you shout, "Enough! I'm done!"
Then we'll sing you off to sleep as you digest
Tonight you'll prop your feet up
But for now, let's eat up
Be our guests!
Be our guests!
Be our guests!
Please, be our guests!
Quick French Lesson
J'ai faim = I'm hungry
De rien = You're welcome
Ultra Special Blah Blah Blah
Obviously the song is Be Our Guest, from Disney's 1991 film, Beauty and the Beast.
Now, that that's out of the way, we can get on to more important matters. While I was writing this chapter, I was listening to Carnival of the Animals, a musical composition consisting for fourteen movements my the French Romantic composer, Camille Saint -Saëns. The segment entitled, Aquarium, is used as background music for Disney's version of Beauty and the Beast.
Again, poor Beast. This is officially no longer a pure comedy, although I promise to keep some amusing elements in the story. Guess what? When I was little I had a comb and mirror set of the Beast's magic mirror. It looked exactly like it, only the handle of the mirror was no ordinary handle, I could pull it out and it would become a comb! When I was finished combing my hair, I could just put it right back in, and it was a magic mirror again! I loved that thing...
Little town, it's a quiet village,
xJadeRainx