Part SECOND!
Five minutes later Finny, Bard, and Mey-Rin were seated comfortably on the couch/desk. They elected Finny to be in charge of being in charge. "I think we should do this one," Finny declared, pointing at something on the list. "I have a really good idea, and this way Bard gets to put his cooking skills to good use!"
"Solid," Mey-Rin agreed. Bard fist-bumped them both.
"Canterbury! Which same-face man is that?" Finny asked. Lefty-fringe swaggered up to the stand.
"'Sup, little man?"
"Wow, you're so cool! You accidentally reminded Luna of a berry too much, whoops! I understand though; it's 'cause you've got berry in your actual name! And then she said your purple hair is very bo—bo... Mey, how do you say this word?"
"Boysenberries."
"Oh thanks! Canterbury has boysenberries-ish hair and raspberries-ish eyes. So I thought of a punishment that doesn't have to do with a tutu which is just what the review said. We're going to pretend bake you into a pie! Won't that be fun? A Canterberry pie!"
Bard hoisted a flamethrower over his shoulder. "You bet your ass it'll be fun."
"Pretend bake," Finny repeated. "You have to use a pretend flamethrower."
So they set about whipping up a massive amount of pastry dough, rolling it out and layering a large aluminum pie tin with it. "Okay, Canterberry, get in your pie!" Finny instructed.
Thompson and Timber were playing homemaker, molding little circles of the leftover dough into tiny tins to make tarts. Canterbury laid down in the middle of his pie tin.
Finny and Mey-Rin sang a jaunty tune as they tucked Canterbury in. "Patty-pie, patty-pie, Phantomhive's men! Bake me a pie as fast as you can! Roll it, and pat it, and mark it with a C! And put it in the pretend oven for Cielly and we!" Then they all danced around gaily while Bard made flamethrower noises and Ciel polished his new gun. "La la la la la la!" said Finny, arguably the best judge ever.
"Please let me do the next case," Brittany pleaded. "The Finnster can't produce enough rage, I don't think."
"Who's it for?"
"Cult guy."
"Cult guy."
"The guy who tried to sacrifice you when you were a cute wittle baby ten year-old. Starcatrose is charging him. She's very protective of you, her 'CUTE LITTLE UKE SHOTA BOY'. You see?"
Ciel frowned. "That man is dead. Sebastian killed him. And where do you people get off trying to punish my enemies? That's my job."
"We're just assuring that he never rests in peace, that's all! You, Seb, and Alois are in charge of his agonizingly horrible punishment anyway!"
Finny yelled, "Pie's done! Let's eat!" He and Bard and Mey sat around and went, "Omnomnomnomnom." Bard discreetly lit the edge of the crust on fire.
"Sweet niblets..." Ciel heaved a very big sigh. "So be it. But if I have to face him I'd rather not be wearing this outfit." So he went off for a moment to presto-changeo back to his little suit fandango.
"Who wants to see another magic trick?" Brittany yelled. She grabbed the flaming pie crust by the unflaming end, heaved it off, and revealed a fat old masked pervert cult guy. Canterbury popped up behind his brothers. "WELCOME TO HELL!" Brittany greeted the man.
The triplets were nice enough to serenade him:
Hell, hell hell hell,
What the hell? What's that smell?
Hell is not a pleasant place!
Shrieking banshees eat your face!
Hell is not a scenic spot!
It looks like shit and smells like rot!
Hell is not the place to go!
Some demon'll make you his ho!
Hell is not the place to be!
You'll burn for all eternity!
Hell is not that nice at all!
The sights and sounds make your skin crawl!
Hell is Hell and that is that!
WELCOME TO HELL, YOU FUCKING RAT!
Cult guy glanced around. He saw the Phantomhive servants standing curiously off to the side, three teenage gangsters, a blonde boy in a dress, a sleeping Indian prince—relocated to a pile of coats—, his servant, a butler, a death god drinking coffee, a girl and a baby, another girl with a potato gun, and then, like an avenging angel come to ensure he would never have peace of mind in his eternal existence as the haunted shade of a horrible man, Ciel Phantomhive came lithely down from the catwalk using the same pulley and sandbag system Brittany had failed at. Cult guy had last seen him in rags and living like an animal—he now wore well-tailored clothing, his hair and skin was clean, and his expression was unreadable. He had never seen anything more terrifying.
"Fucking rat indeed," Ciel commented. He landed on the judge's desk so that he could tower over his ex-captor. "And I don't throw curses like that around lightly. Unlike you, I am not nor was I ever common trash."
Brittany shot a potato at Cult guy. It was a little bit frozen solid so it left a nice lump on his shoulder. "Boys, put those cute heads together. Incorporation of the Film-Which-Shall-Not-Be-Named is encouraged."
Alois approached Cult guy with tantalizing slowness. Cult guy took one look at his horns and wings and that freaky smile and wet himself. "A-are you a demon?"
Alois cackled. "You wish!" To the others he said, "Strip him down. Brand him like he did to my sweet Ciel, then sew his mouth to Earl Retard's arsehole. He's around, right?"
Brittany shrugged. "He was baked into meat pies, but we can bring him back."
"Just to clarify," Sebastian interjected, "your qualms lie with whipping innocent workaholics but you have no problem permanently mutilating child molesters?"
"Bingo!"
"Got it."
Alois lashed out at Cult guy with one of his shoes, tearing through the front of his clothing with his heel. He then kicked the man over and stood on his chest. "I detest filth like you."
Ciel figured he'd probably have to get his hands dirty eventually and hopped down onto the stage. He had Sebastian hoist Cult guy out of the pie tin and pin him face down on the floorboards. Cult guy could hear Claude singing Ke$ha songs in his lair. "What's that horrible noise? Make it stop! Please! I'm begging you!"
Brittany cracked him across the head with her gun.
Sebastian handed Ciel a branding iron, who handed it back. "You know what, I have a better idea. I'm going to take care of this Salander-style."
"Who's she?" Alois asked.
"She's the girl with the dragon tattoo."
Cult guy was rolled onto his front again. Sebastian sat on his face, Alois sat on his legs, and Ciel leaned over his gut from the side. The guy's shirt was torn away, baring a hideous pasty stomach. Ciel flicked on his needle and began to tattoo words across the man's lower stomach. I AM A SADISTIC PIG, A TORTURER, AND I KILL CHILDREN. The whole time Cult guy was howling in agony, but his screams were only muffled by Sebastian's godly glutes.
"Now can we sew him to my guy?" Alois asked excitedly while bouncing up and down.
"That's pretty nasty work," Ciel muttered. "I don't want to do it." The boys both looked at Sebastian.
"Is this an order?"
"Yes."
"Yeah."
THE FOLLOWING SENTENCE IS NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART.
Sebastian sighed and stood up. He dragged Cult guy offstage where he would presumably cut open his face and sew him to the twice-undead Late Earl Trancy's rear-end. My apologies for the mental images. The triplets laughed their demonic laughs.
'KAY IT'S OVER NOW.
"Whoa, heavy stuff. Let's do something fun!" Brittany declared.
"Let's do this one!" said Finny. "May Drocell Keinz please and thank you come up to the stand?"
Drocell entered left, from the same direction in which Sebby had just gone. He would have passed him. "I don't think I liked what I just saw."
"Shsh, that's in the past now," Alois told him, head cocked ninety degrees. "Now it's happy fun sparkle play time."
Finny banged the squeaky gavel he'd found. "Hey, puppet man! There's this girl named Lindsay who got the song London Bridge stuck in her head so she had to downlaid it—"
"Download, Finny."
"I don't know what that means. Anyway it was your fault but if you apologize nicely and then sing the London Bridge by that Fergie lassie then everything will be all fine again! Can you do that?"
Before he'd even answered the triplets were supplying the 'oh snap!'s. And after you hear a couple 'oh snap!'s you kind of have to do it. So!
It's me
Drocell
The pen
Polo!
Drocell Droce, what's up baby?
Come on
When I come to the clubs, step aside (Oh snap!)
Part the seas, don't be having me in the line (Oh snap!)
V.I.P 'cause you know I gotta shine (Oh snap!)
I'm Drocell Droce
And me love you long time (Oh snap!)
All my dolls get down on the floor (Oh snap!)
Back to back drop it down real low (Oh snap!)
I'm such a lady but I'm dancing like a ho (Oh snap!) (*crotch grab*)
'cause you know I don't give a fuck so here we go! (Oh shit)
How come every time you come around
My London London Bridge want to go down
Like London London London wanna go down
Like London London London be going down like
How come every time you come around
My London London Bridge want to go down
Like London London London wanna go down
Like London London London be going down like
The drinks start pouring
And my speech start slurring
Everybody start looking real good (Oh snap!)
"We're good!" Alois declared. "That is plenty enough." The judging panel applauded and Drocell was set free. Ciel wondered why Finny was his most efficient judge.
Said best judge was once again perusing the case list. "Oh no! Young Master, this one says your betrothed is in trouble! Uh oh, what did she do? I bet she pinked up somebody's house again..." He paused to read it through. "Oh! That's a bad word!"
"Let me see." Mey-Rin took the papers from him. "Hmmm... Oh, um, people really don't like your fiancée, Young Master."
"I know."
"Okay, well, if it's alright with you... Could Miss Elizabeth Midford please join us in court?"
Lizzie waltzed in with the dainty, graceful little steps of a young girl who fancies herself a princess. She shot Alois the mother of all death glares so quickly it was barely noticeable, then returned to smiling her sweet smile.
Finny and Bard were hiding behind the couch. Alois snarled at her. The triplets and Brittany munched on pecan butter tarts and watched the drama unfold from the audience seating.
"Never fear, Lizzie's here, to keep her darling safe! From that—"
"Yeah, we're actually bored with the musical part now," Alois cut her off. It would appear this was the consensus.
Mey-Rin cleared her throat. "Ahem, um, Miss Elizabeth, you are here on account of two charges. The first is from VampAnimeLover254 for being a—pardon my language, Miss—a bitch to Earl Alois and just having an overall nasty attitude whenever you're in the court—again, my apologies, Miss, I only deliver the sentences—and the second is from Luna and consists of you being too—excuse me, Miss—girly, which I can only assumed is being used derogatively. As well, your hairstyle is quote unquote 'IMPOSSIBLE'—but I assure you I quite like it, Miss!—and is unachievable for mere mortals such as the reviewer's friend, a fact which saddened the involved parties. How do you plead?"
Lizzie took a deep breath. Inhale, exhale. "It is not my concern whether or not commoners cannot attain my unique hairstyle. They shouldn't be trying in the first place—it's my trademark. As for the bit with the foul language, I am merely acting in self-defense. I have assets to protect and that thing in the shorts is threatening my ability to do so."
Ciel puzzled over when he'd become an asset.
"Yeah, but you have to be nice!" Finny gave his opinion in the matter. "I'm sure if you used your please and thank yous and asked Mr. Trancy really nicely to stop bothering Young Master, he would!"
Lizzie was about to say more, but Bard made the executive decision to move things along. "Guilty or not, Luna's comin' in for the remainder of the afternoon. She's gonna coach you so that you adhere to the probationary guidelines set up in regards to your behaviour." As he spoke, Luna entered stage right and was handed a marshmellow gun for her own protection.
"What probationary guidelines?"
"I told you," Finny said. "Be nice. Put on a nice smile for us and say nice things about Mr. Trancy. Show some enthusiasm."
Lizzie narrowed her eyes into scary green slits. "I. don't. want. to. be. nice. to. that. kid."
That kid was ballet dancing in circles around Ciel. "An asset?" the latter mumbled.
"CUT THAT OUT!" Lizzie shouted.
"Does this bother you?" Alois asked in faux concern. He sang a little diddy for Ciel. "Baby let you HANDLE me, in my SKIN-TIGHT leggings, be your teenage dream TONIGHT! 'Cause you're AMAZING, JUST the way you ARE, WITHOUT ALL THOSE GAUDY FRILLY CLOTHES THAT YOUR FIANCÉE INSISTS ON PUTTING YOU IN! La la la la la... OLÉ, BITCH."
Lizzie was quite literally seething. She had that imagining-I'm-choking-him-with-his-own-lower-intestine look on her face.
Luna popped up beside her. "Ah ah ah, remember your court orders. Give us a smile!"
Lizzie smiled like a shark and said through her teeth, "Alois you have a lovely singing voice."
"And?"
"And you OLÉ like a boss."
"Good," said Luna. "Now keep it up or I'll shoot. You'll be cutting these sticky little buggers out of your hair tornadoes for weeks!"
Brittany came up with a megaphone. "IT'S TIME TO PLAY THREE BALLS IN A BUCKET!"
Alois yelled, "THAT SOUNDS SUSPICIOUSLY PORNOGRAPHIC!"
"WHY'S THAT?"
"I DUNNO. JUST REMINDS ME OF THOSE GIRLS AND THEIR CUP. WE DON'T HAVE TO EAT SHIT DO WE?"
"SOMEONE WILL."
"DIBS OUT!"
"There's no dibbing. I'll explain. See, Lindsay requested that we give this a go. There are three balls in a bucket, we all pick one, and based on the colour either everyone concocts us a meal from hell, a beverage from hell, or a makeover from hell. The colours for each are chartreuse, red, and mauve respectively. Now pick!" Brittany held out a bucket to the shotas.
Alois picked chartreuse. Meal. "Aw fuck."
Ciel picked mauve. Makeover. "Barking spiders."
Brittany picked red. Drink. "Good thing we've got this bucket."
Five minutes later the three were sitting at the snack time table in the middle of the stage. In front of Alois sat a plate of a bit of vinegared banana-nut muffin pie—B: Hannah, could you come here for a moment? H: *falls from catwalk* Yes? B: *smothers Hannah with pie* H: The vinegar stings my eyes, Miss.—half-frozen potatoes, coffee beans, marshmellows and raw pie dough (all collected from around the set) and sauerkraut, fish eyes, and a container of someone's leftover tapioca pearls from a random fridge, all mutilated and creamed together with a potato masher. "Why were these things in the fridge!" Alois kept asking. "And why didn't they eat the tapioca pearls with their bubble tea? This does not make sense!"
Because Lizzie had a gun trained on her, she smiled stiffly and said, "If anyone can make sense of it, it's you, you smart guy you. Go Alois go."
Brittany had the other half of Alois' meal, except blended with what she suspected was toilet water. "Now that's just cruel." Alois laughed.
Ciel leaned back in his chair, watching. "Well? Go on. Om nom."
The triplets picked up their instruments to provide the players with musical accompaniment.
If you've ever thrown up twenty times,
Or tasted your own shit,
You will probably understand the horror,
Of a meal like this!
The soup of the day is also your entrée,
The beverage is your soup.
It looks like sewage mixed with compost,
Mixed with toe jam mixed with poop.
Few things in life are better mashed,
This crap is no exception!
I hope you have your Pepto handy.
This'll be bad for digestion!
If you need to puke out all your guts,
To vomit out your pride,
That is what the bucket's for.
It's right there at your side!
So from Thompson, Timber, and Canterbury,
We wish you all the best.
And if you do not finish, kindly
Incinerate the rest.
Brittany took a deep breath. Alois put on his game face and picked up a fork. "Eat my dust, Spazzmuffin."
"Eat your damn food, Trancy."
She picked up her glass, he his first bite, and on the count of three they learned what death tastes like.
It took a minute of gagging and pretending they weren't gagging before they swallowed. "You ready to give up?" Brittany asked, her eyes watering.
"Like hell I am. I can do this all day." He forked in another bite of pure ew.
Brittany took another swig. "Prepare to lose, pretty boy. I'm Chinese. You don't know what I've eaten before."
"Yeah well I was so poor I couldn't afford the -or. I was just po! You don't know what I've eaten!"
"This isn't even a competition," Ciel pointed out.
"Shut up!"
After two more forkfuls Alois tossed his cookies, the sight of which made Brittany retch. Ciel managed to keep his cake down for once, so that was a plus. "Oh, Alois," Lizzie said. "You vomit like a supermodel. I wish I could be you. You're so great."
Alois wiped his mouth on his sleeve and caught Ciel almost smiling. "Do you find this amusing?" Ciel said nothing, which Alois took as a yes. Annoyed, he grabbed the other boy by the hair and kissed him with plenty of tongue. Ciel threw up after that.
Brittany pulled a little plastic green thing out of her pocket. "Anyone want Listerine strips?"
"Oh yes."
"Yes please."
"Hannah! Clean this up!"
"Yes, Your Highness..."
"Elizardbitch!" Alois said. "Come here!"
Lizzie slouched over. "What." Alois grabbed her arm. "Ew! What the heck?"
"I need you to get me a lemonade. Mike's Hard. They're in the fridge."
"You have vomit all over your hand!"
"What? Oh, I thought you'd be used to that. I'm pretty sure Ciel's bulimic. I don't mind though; his body's still A-MAZ-ING."
Claude's muffled voice came from his lair. "He is not because his teeth are not eroded."
"Oh. Nevermind then." Once Alois had his lemonade, he and Brittany smiled deviously at Ciel. "Your turn."
Ten minutes later Ciel had some beautiful drawn-on cat whiskers, which were nicely paired with a half-handlebar half-Hitler mustache. Alois had had a pair of sparkly blue fake eyelashes in his pocket, which he'd glued to Ciel. While he was at it he glued a few sequins, some tinsel, and a coupon for Kotex products he found on the floor to Ciel's forehead. They'd drawn pink and orange rays around his eye patch and teardrops under his other eye. They'd borrowed some of Hannah's purple lipstick for his mouth. He looked pretty stupid.
"He may look clinically insane, but I still wouldn't mess with him," Brittany commented. Alois snapped a picture for keepsake. "Viral, here we go."
"I can't believe you!" Lizzie screeched. "How could you make such a handsome boy look like he rolled out of a tranny-ridden crackhouse squatter-filled brothel? WHERE ARE YOUR SOULS? VICIOUS WEIRD BASTARDS, I'll HAVE YOUR HEADS!"
"Lizzie!" Luna scolded.
"ROOOOAAAAR!"
She was pelted with marshmellows. "Kyaaaa! Ah, are they stuck to my dress? Oh no oh no..." Lizzie hurriedly removed the ammo from her hair. "I meant, Alois, your eyelashes are really pretty. Like the actual ones that are somehow black. Not the fake ones."
"More," Luna urged.
"They're like nice kitty whiskers! I want to pet them." Under her breath she muttered something akin to, "and then yank them out one by one."
"Duly noted," Alois replied.
Luna handed her gun off to Brittany so that she could attend to her second duty of the day. "Mr. Alois sir and Young Master," Finny read, "Luna who is this lass here said you were too rapeable—uh oh! And then you wonder why perverts keep kidnapping you—double uh oh! Wait, when is Young Master getting kidnapped? What? What is this!"
"I knew this was too good to be true," Ciel mumbled.
"Young Master, Young Master! Are you in danger? Why didn't you tell us! Oh dear, oh me, we failed you! We faaaaiiilllled!" Finny burst into tears and the other two servants set about comforting him.
"Anyway," Brittany continued, reclaiming her job, "you can't wear shorts like that, ALOIS, and then be all damsel-in-distress-y. You are bound to cause some inner stirrings if you walk around London like that. Therefore, Luna is going to teach you both the ancient oriental self-defense art of ORIGAMI! Y'all ready for this? It's super effective!"
"It's true!" Luna said. "Throw a bunch of pointy paper cranes at anyone—it'll stun them long enough for you to high-tail it. I've done it before." She nodded wisely. "Oh yes. Sometimes they'll even get papercut."
Ciel blinked. "That's all? We're just learning to fold paper?"
Alois sighed in relief. "Here I thought we were going to get raped or something so we'd learn our lesson! Phew! This is way better!"
So while Sebastian, Agni, and Soma napped in a big ol' pile of men, Claude had a little crawlspace dance party, Hannah mopped up vomit, Grell crept into the big ol' pile of men, the triplets drew on the sleepers' faces, the servantrio played Go Fish, and the various house pets roamed aimlessly, Ciel, Alois, Luna and Brittany sat down to learn self defense. They folded and folded and folded until Ciel's cranes stopped not having heads, Alois' stopped looking so inappropriate, and Brittany's stopped looking like goats. Then they all threw them at Hannah and laughed except for Ciel who isn't much of a laugher and his cranes didn't fly all that well anyway.
"Last one!" Brittany exclaimed. "The showstopper is from cjestarstyle-the newest member of KUAoPLaL-and is for Sebastian, Will, Grell, and Ciel! Men, take your places!"
Will came reluctantly back into the building, dressed back in his suit. Sebastian and Ciel—one half-asleep, one still made-up like a madman—and Grell, who had morning wood, joined Will so that the four of them stood in a line.
"For being way too sexy in the musical, the four of you are to perform the 'Shinigami Haken Kyoukai No theme'. So put on your specs! Ciel, I have a monocle you can borrow."
The lights dimmed, spotlights flicked on, and music began to play. They took turns with the lines like good little boys.
We are the Shinigami Dispatch Society.
We obey the rules!
Who is breaking them?
Who~?
We are exemplary shinigami.
Always punctual!
Who is late? Who~?
Rule No. 1!
Shinigami must wear glasses.
No. 2!
They must take care of their death scythe!
No. 3!
Sundry expenses must be settled at the end of the month!
No. 4! If you meet someone handsome...
(Grell made his cheekiest face) Then you can consider yourself remunerated?
We keep watch on the scheduled deaths and collect the souls!
We must never relax our guard, or the hungry demons will snatch them away! (Sebastian coughed)
We are the Shinigami Dispatch Society.
We dance wildly
but
we are short of breath.
We live a really long life!
Some of us might be scary old! Who~?
No. 5! We work coldly without even a smile.
No. 6! And when the fixed time comes we stop working and go party!
We are the Shinigami Dispatch Society!
I think everyone gets it by now!
How long does this song go on for?
This chapter's long enough as it is!
I wonder if anyone was reading this,
Or if they just scrolled down!
Is this enough?
Are we done yet?
Let's go party!
Alois hopped into the group of dancers. The triplets, Phantomhive servants, stereotypical Indians, and Brittany followed suit.
Happy Valentine's Day from us to you!
I like this song because it doesn't have to rhyme!
Because the rest is translated!
Thanks for all the reviews!
It means the world to us!
Spread the love!
And the marmalade!
Have a great week!
See ya'll next time!
THE END!
Bad news, guys. I'm thinking about wrapping this whole shebang up within the next month. It's monstrously long and is by far the longest thing I've ever written, so I figure it's time to move onto something else. There'll probably be time for one or two more court days, so review with your most hysterical awesome-sauce pants showstoppers so we can go out with a bang! Then we'll have ONE LAST PARTY for AWKWARD MOMENTS DAY (March 18), MY SECOND FAVOURITE HOLIDAY, and that will be that! Thoughts?