Note: the British monarchy is actually a figurehead sovereign with no "true" power. But for this fanfic, English kings still wield the power (and Queen Victoria likely wasn't half-Irish!).
*Dear readers, apologies for the delay but when life keeps you busy it can pull you away from what you love. **Pls note "Beautiful Stranger II" is in progress, which will immediately follow where this story ends. I may place it to the Rated T section for now, but inevitably it will end up in the M section.
*So, this chapter is officially the last chapter for this story, but the story's not over yet.** I haven't abandoned you. But now I've had several anxious TF fans emailing me about when I'm revamping one of my other ones whose format is all screwy as well. I need to get on it because they're chewing me out about it. That one I haven't updated in five years (?). For the next few months, I'll be working on 'Stranger II plus a non-Cars one, so updates won't be as frequent as I'd like, but they *will come*.
*So without further adieu, I bring you #50. This is the last chapter for this one. The sequel (Beautiful Stranger II) that will follow will pick up exactly where this one ends, however the story focus for Beautiful Stranger II will be primarily about Wingo and Gwen (Doc and Prince will be in it, obviously, but they will no longer be the main characters). I decided that since this is starting to veer away from Doc and Prince (with Gwen's arrival), and the basis of the original story was always meant for them.
*I feel it's only fitting I close this one out and just start a brand new saga.*
Chapter 50
Telephone Love
Doc vainly tried dialing his wife's cell again. Again, voicemail. Sneering he mentally shut off his bluetooth. The regal 2012 Chevy Sonic was tending to his affairs in Doc's large kitchen. He was quite young in his fifties, mostly black with beige on his sides. Thin grey lines were within this beige, and his left eye bore a flat monocle eyepiece. He had been working for the Hudsons for nearly three years now, and was more or less family to them now, as was the little black forklift in her maid attire. They both glanced at each other, knowing what just occurred. They heard it. The couple forgot the two were in the kitchen. "This, by far, is my favorite assignment. They have some very interesting conversations indeed, wouldn't you say, Alexis?" the Sonic commented in a Posh "Queen's English" accent, indicative of his Kent, England roots. The more Manhattan NY-bred forklift smirked. "No comment." she muttered as she put away the dishes. Doc barged in and halted when he saw them. "Alexis! Murdock…uhh. You two didn't happen to hear what the wife and I were discussing just now, did you? If you two did I'm sorry."
"Quite alright Master Hudson. Certainly a very memorable one, and certainly not one I and the lass here intended to hear. " Murdock sighed. The British 2012 Chevy Sonic butler then moved toward the island bar. "Do you….wish for a drink of some sort right now, sir?" He presented a shot glass. "Sure. Alexis, if what I said was offensive, please forgive me. I feel ashamed." Doc pulled up to the bar. The little forklift could see he was extremely uncomfortable with her being there. It was a good thing her kind only married and mated with other forklifts. They were way too small to pair up with any known vehicle, plus their genes were only compatible with their own. And they only ever produced forklifts, so they never had to worry about their kids having the kind of retarded discussions cars and trucks had. She was a bit put off, but she wouldn't let Boss Doc know it. Instead she fought to contain the grin threatening to reveal itself. "When she comes back Boss, ya' might wanna' keep one eye awake when ya' sleep tonight. I know; this is a guy moment. Come get me lata Murdock." she turned to leave while Murdock prepared Doc's favorite alcoholic beverage.
Once he was sure she left the area, Doc sat chagrined. "Mr. Murdock, I guess I uh, messed up, didn't I? I shouldn't have said all of that but I kind of meant what I said in there too. I'm sorry Murdock but it's sick. Doesn't that sound sick to you? What woman eats her after mass? I've never heard of anything like that." "Apparently quite a few do. It's quite popular back in the UK. Well maybe not 'popular', but it appears to be 'all the rage' as the youth call it in certain circles. I'm certain females have consumed it for thousands of years, and it's perhaps the norm in some cultures. Don't ask me what the lure is to that. It's a woman thing, I suppose. Perhaps there is some sort of nutritional benefit to eating it….? Bullocks if I know." Murdock poured his master's beverage. "My grandparents served the Earl of Kent and it was tradition for my grandmother to bury the after mass of every baby born to our clan in the garden in the back of the court. Her mother did it, her grandmother did it, and so on. Including my Mum. The women in my family, it was common for each new mother to bury it there because it was said to make the soil rich in nutrients. Made the grapes and everything grow better. They also kept a tiny sliver of it and they would dry, grind it up into a medicinal powder of some sort and then mix it with milk and then give it to the mother to help her heal….the…shall we say the parts of her that did all the work pushing the little wheels out." Murdock shrugged with a smile. He was amused by Doc's disgusted sneering.
"But why?"
"Well I don't know 'why' but the story I've heard was they said it actually sped up the post-birth process. As for the garden burying well the House of Kent does indeed have the finest soil on any estate. Almost black, it's so rich. Everything that grows there, roses, tomatoes, grapes. Produces the finest wine anywhere in Great Britain. So grand even the French and Italians love our Kent wine. I suppose grinding after masses up and dispersing them in the soil contributes to it. As a matter of fact Master Hudson, the Brits are hardly the only ones who do it. Quite a number of cultures the world over do similar things with theirs. They find some sort of use for it. That ghastly blob that comes out after the child does has a million uses Master Hudson, so I hear. A pill form is a first, but I suppose it could be taken that way. What for exactly, I've no idea." "Do you think I was wrong for what I said, I mean about me being cleaner?" Doc wanted the butler's honest assessment. Murdock looked at him solemnly but with a hint of a smile.
"Sir? My honest observation? Forgive me, sir, as it is not fitting of one in my treads to speak about such intimacies, even to those of my own station. It's a natural occurrence obviously but in my profession it's usually inappropriate to speak of it on duty at least. We tend to shy away from such topics unless it is with the one we love. Yes, even we stoic butlers and maids get wild. But since you've asked, yes I thought it was rather cross of you to tell her that. I'm confused as to how you managed to conclude that what we men produce is 'cleaner'. Surely we're no cleaner or dirtier than the opposite gender." "You know what I'm getting at, Murdock."
"Quite the contrary I do not. I take it you mean females discharge extra substances that we males don't have to worry about. True enough. Is it any more unsavory, I would say not. Mistress Prince had a point when she said you…..treat her like a five course chef's cuisine when…..you know. If you're willing to pretend she's on a plate or kiss your son right after his emergence which, if you ask me is quite macabre, then how is that different from her taking a ground up pill of something she produced? I have to side with your madam on this one sir."
With that Murdock gently shoved Doc's drink towards him. "You think I should apologize to her, don't you?" he groused. "Well I don't know. I mean, it's your funeral—I mean marriage. JUST kidding, sir. But seriously, an apology's in order. Not to be harsh Master Hudson but that was quite insensitive. Make no mistake it was laughable, but insensitive. Remember, she came from quite an abusive childhood. What you said to her in the family room, she has probably heard things similar to that her whole life growing up. I'm sure she'll get over it but, try to be a bit more tactful next time." Murdock told him seriously. "I guess I can call her and sweet-talk over the phone. Maybe if I tell her I love her she'll...get over it. I still don't think I was wrong for thinking those supplement pills are hideous, but guess I can call her." Doc moped. He fell silent for a moment. "I've meant to ask you when you first came to work for us three years ago. This assignment here with us, is this your first time here in the United States? If you don't mind me asking." "It is sir. I've never been outside of England before." Murdock was wiping down a glass with such precision, Doc noticed he held it up to the light to make sure not a single spot was on it. He had never seen such attention to detail.
x
"Do you miss home? And do you like what you do?"
Murdock looked at him. "Yes and no. What's the Queen Victorian old adage? Be British and be proud? Of course I am! Always will be! I miss England dearly. But I was ready for a change. I've been around nobility and the upper echelons of English society my entire life, like my parents, my grandparents, and great grand parents. I come from a family of butlers and maids. And nannies. Not an obligation, it's more of a tradition for us, my family. It's a noble profession, you always have those on the outside who choose to become one and they train for it. People are surprised there is actually an academy for it, and it's hard to graduate. In my clan, it's almost expected. It's not 'required', but more of a traditional thing for someone to take after our relatives. Roll in their wheels, do what they did. I simply decided to follow after my folks, some of whom served kings in the first part of this century. I've an uncle who served the French president. Like those before me, I love what I do. I've taken residence with wonderful households. But this is my first time here in the States."
Doc was silent. Murdock addressed him again. "I quite like it here...I may actually stay once my tour is up. I know that look. You may consider keeping me for another six years if I agree, am I to understand? I quite enjoy working for you and Madam Hudson, so to answer you, I'd be honored to continue serving you and the beautiful Lady Prince. Yes, I'll shall stay." Doc's eyes lit up. "We would love for you to stay here with us. You're pretty much like family to us. Then it's a done deal, I'll renew your contract for another six years. Of course you'll get a raise." he told him. "Ahh, I don't care about a raise. Raises are nice, make no mistake. But I do what I do because I love my work. I'd be honored to stay. This mansion-garage of yours is quite lively compared to where I've worked before. The nobles are charmingly wonderful. They can be a splendid group to work for, truly. But publicly, they can be quite...boring. Although I've heard stories, so not all of them. Some are more relaxed than others. I'm sure they have a wild streak that we just cannot see." He set the glass down, still scrutinizing it as he did so.
"Now the Royals themselves are another story. That fabulous Lambourghini King and Queen of ours can be quite charming but they are truly of the people. I've had the extraordinary pleasure of meeting them on a number of occasions when they visited the Kent estate back home. They're quite laid back for royalty. Be sure of it: they take their positions very seriously but...they are quite the lively couple. I think that's why we Brits are so fanatical about them. Here these two are, two of the rarest car breeds on earth who are the monarchs of the most famous crown on earth, yet they are down to a level where they can relate to everyday commoners. They have the mentality of commoners. They're not nearly as uppity as most of the other royals and nobles. All of the butlers and maids I know that work at Buckingham Palace all tell me the same thing...that Their Majesties are an absolute joy to work for. They've brought a celebrity flair to the House of Windsor never before seen, breaking protocol all the time and completely ignoring certain rules of conduct."
"I can imagine. They make a wonderful couple. Honestly I've never paid much attention to The Royal Family until Brodrick matured and turned into a wild boy and met Cerys. You're right; those two caught everybody's attention. I admit I even watched some The Royal Wedding when it aired. I didn't see most of it but her gown with that long train and a long veil to match was beautiful. And him in all his royal military getup. It was something to see. No offense but like most Americans, I always pictured Royalty over there as these stuffy and proper types that never wanted to be touched by anyone. And to see those two hugging rusty vehicles like Mater in public, going out to nightclubs and smoking got me interested in British Royalty. I guess when you're the king and queen you can do whatever the hell you want. We Yankees love you guys's royals as much as you do. And they're both Lambos too? That's even rarer." Doc told him.
"Not to mention," Murdock added. "their son Prince George IS one of YOUR make and model...? Destined to be a superb and unconventional ruler like his parents."
He noticed Doc stiffening with poorly-hidden pride for the now eight-year-old Prince of Wales. Prince George IV was painted a subdued eggshell white like his mother, and whatever was in his paint job it gave him an almost soft portrait hue. He would mature into this young adult man, one of the greatest kings ever-and still have that aura reflecting off of his ivory shell. And he was of Doc's kind. A 1951 Hudson Hornet. Two sporty Lambos produced that kid who was next in line after that Lambo father of his. Already George IV displayed the same traits of his parents: down-to-earth, a lover of other cultures, and controversial protocol. At the same time he was bent on taking his future role as King of Great Britain and Northern Ireland and Her territories seriously. The boy was already fluent in Latin, French, and Japanese. "Yeah, he's one of us." Doc gleamed with a tinge of arrogance. Hudsons ruled the racetrack and the world.
"I would love to meet them. I really mean it. I know Prince would certainly like it. Aside from Stacey she's never seen any of her kind."
Murdock pondered that possibility. "Well...I do have connections, you know. I've met them on a number of occasions and have developed a good repertoire with them in fact. I can make that happen. Perhaps. I'm sure they wouldn't mind at all visiting this charming little town. Radiator Springs is a grand place, truly. Quaint and rowdy at the same time. They'd fit right in. They are adventurous, those two."
x
Doc recalled watching parts of their Royal Marriage in 2006, as it was on every major news station but still payed little attention as, at the time, he showed little interest in them. From what he did see it was spectacular. Indeed many Americans did watch it. The world saw it. However Doc did watch their coronation live and he would never forget. Broderick had barely interred his sire at St. Paul's Cathedral, when weeks later he and then-Princess Cerys were crowned in Westminster Abbey. Coronations typically took months to plan, but Broderick made clear he wanted to "get it over with" because new affairs were afoot he needed tending to as monarch. And he was not big on all the pomp and pageantry royals were known for, but he knew it was tradition. But his wife wanted the whole glorious arrangement, so just for her, he went along. Females were like that...wanted everything done in grandeur. She was right in telling him that the people expected to see their king publicly crowned; he owed them that. They'd be sorely disappointed if it was a private affair, she stated. Broderick knew the Princess was right. Besides, she was worth it in his eyes. He would do anything for his Cerys.
Remarkably the Brits were able to hastily pull together an elegant ceremony in just three weeks after Broderick's father passed. Broderick was crowned first and then he crowned his own wife as Queen. This was breaking protocol as it was actually the Archbishop of Canterbury's job to crown both. But it was still the most regal ceremony Doc had ever witnessed on TV. How the Lamborghini Princess of Wales sat, still as a statue, as her husband placed Queen Mary's circlet, her crown, on her hood. Just crowned the king, Broderick himself bore the historic St. Edwards Crown, a crown jewel that dated back to 10th century medieval England. The Sceptre with Cross stood at one wheel while his other had the Sovereign's Orb attached to it. His sudden maturity added to his majestic image.
Just when they were about to crown his wife he lifted a wheel to stop them, and told the Bishop to give him the crown. He declared his wife Queen of Great Britain and bestowed her himself. All the while their small son, George IV, sat remarkably reserved for a tot his age. Barely three at the time, he was already well-behaved and already taking his new title as Prince of Wales very seriously.
Doc was impressed enough as it was with Broderick when, as a bachelor prince he was known for his bad boy streak. Known to hit nightclubs to party, drink, and dance much to the annoyance of his more conservative parents. He argued that the Royal Family, as beloved by the British as they were, needed to change. It was not to be mistaken...he took his role seriously as the next in line, and often served as Ambassador of Great Britain on foreign visits in place of his father who, as King, had his wheels full already.
Broderick also was active with several charities, donated money, and was a kind-hearted soul like his noble mother and father. But he was also a party animal. This was unheard of among any royal family. Certainly a first for the Brit ones. One moment Prince Broderick was cursing up a storm with swear words at the paparazzi, actively smoked and listened to pop music. The next, he was bravely inspecting mine-strewn fields in Afghanistan and Uganda, knowing he could accidentally roll over one and be blown to pieces at any moment. These deadly devices had been long-forgotten remnants of Afghanistan's and Uganda's bloody civil wars from the late 1940s, only recently discovered when villagers unknowingly crossed over one. An untold many were killed. Many others were left badly maimed for life. Broderick was determined to rid both countries of the dastardly things, and oversaw an American, British and Japanese project to remove all of them. He provided the finances for surgeons to successfully reconstruct those disabled by mine encounters. And he impressed everyone by visiting and cradling mine victims.
He didn't view himself as no better than anyone due to his status or his model. The nobility loved him, though they scorned his openly smoking in public. "Brody" was nicknamed "Brodrick the Maverick" and "Rogue Prince" who broke all the rules of civil discourse. From his firey speeches at the U.N. turning up shot glasses at London Irish pubs. He threatened to ban the Paparazzi forever from British soil when he became king he stated, and as king he could do it. His sire never bothered with it as they never bothered him. The king had the power to do it but he took amusement in his son's venting against "bloody damn rouge photographers". The way his son behaved in public at times, unbecoming of royalty in his eyes at least-he felt that Broderick got what he rightly deserved when he was plastered on the covers of magazines, reputable or tabloid.
Broderick had even one-upped Doc in one incident where he was photographed and videotaped by other paparazzi punching a paparazzo in the face, cigarette in mouth. This, while he told his Secret Service security that that "wretched whore-of-a-mother of his should have aborted his arse since she failed to 'swallow' him banging with his ill-bred sire." THAT infamous declaration was captured on audio, becoming an internet sensation, and the gossip of the planet. The punchline of famous comedians. Everyone knew what Broderick knew by "swallowing", yet it was so shocking to hear a crown prince spewing such vulgarity. It was coldly hilarious to most, offensive to others who criticized him for not showing more restraint. Broderick apologized to the injured paparazzo and even invited the forgiving chap to Buckingham Palace for state dinner! Honored, the grateful paparazzo accepted, expressing his sincere regret for invading the Prince's space. It was strange to see the two of them make amends indeed! That was the type of character Broderick was. He had a short fuse but could be kind, serious, funny, earnest, sincere, merciful, diplomatic and noble all wrapped in one.
Perhaps his ways brought shame to the family at times but nonetheless Broderick was a good young man. And King Phillip was proud to call him his son. A bit out there, a bit unorthodox, but still a noble lad mostly. He had to discover his own character and was doing a fine job of it.
As expected of him, Broderick entered the British military, joining the Royal British Navy and served in combat in the Persian conflict where he was wounded at sea on a carrier he co-admiraled. Then he met his equally beloved future wife, Cerys. A big heart like him. Same type of car he was, one was uncommon enough. A Lambourgnini couple was unheard of. They went partying together as well as turned up at prestigious events together. Marriage was inevitable. At one point Brodrick admitted on a German talk show he wasn't so sure he wanted to be king. Too much responsibility, he said, jokingly. He was mostly partially serious, but his father's death woke something up in him.
x
The world had never seen such regalia in him as the day of his coronation. It was as if something switched on in him. He recognized his new position meant not only figurehead, authority, and absolute power, but an expectation to represent his clan in a positive manner. He understood from now on, his every move and word would be scrutinized. Not that he cared... he still uttered the occasional curse word in a live mic, still smoked and mingled with lesser folks. But he realized he was a king. He needed to act like it. Even the paparazzi backed off, understanding fully that now as king, he had a far more serious job to do, and they respected it. And since the paparazzi backed down, he let them be as well. It wasn't only because he was king but because they respected him. They still followed him, snapped pictures and took videos but they showed polite restraint.
His coronation was breathtaking, but Doc noticed that Broderick's whole demeanor changed as he parked on his throne. A throne that had thousands of years of history behind it. He had a stately aura about him, appeared somber. In that moment he became a man who seemed to realize the enormous burden of the duty to serve his nation was placed upon him. He may have been a wild boy but even someone like him understood he was born to privilege and with it, came an enormous responsibility. He didn't choose this life, but he understood his destiny. Whether or not he asked to be birthed into such a lifestyle, it was his destiny. He represented an entire country, and it hit home for him after his father suddenly died.
The night before he was crowned, he remained awake all night in the Buckingham Palace Throne Room with the Sword of State before him. He was in silent prayer the entire night, paying homage to his great father and grandfather, as well as the scores of kings/few queens before them. It was here where he quietly wept the passing of his sire. Before the cameras and his people he had a stoic face. They knew he mourned in private, but in public he willed himself to be strong. The night before his crowning, he vowed to do his deceased father proud.
The Bishop crowned him with the legal name he was given at birth: Broderick Phillip Edward-Louis the II. Doc would never forget when he and Queen Cerys came out onto the balcony to greet the millions of British citizens in the streets of Trafalgar Square, and for miles down the street. Cloaked in their red white-furred robes and majestic coronets, they stood looking at their people. King Broderick II looked at a sea of waving Union Jack flags and maddening cheers. So loud it was deafening. Confetti snowed in the air. Cerys was gleefully smiling and elated, but her husband had a somber look almost the whole time. Everyone knew why, he was suddenly faced with a huge responsibility as king and knew it. He only briefly smiled, realizing now that this was what he was born to do, whether he wanted it or not. For the most part he remained solemn-faced. But clearly he was a wonderful king.
And Doc was equally impressed with his tiny kid. Just weeks after his parents' coronation, little George himself would become the world focus when he was officially knighted The Prince of Wales at his Investiture. It was a lavish spectacle on its own and the little boy stunned viewers with his obedience as he stood before his proud father.
The double coronation of the two Lambos as Great Britain's King and Queen was watched by billions, and from that point on Doc was smitten with Royal fever. Hell, even the Irish loved that royal Lambo pair. Not just Northern Ireland but the independent nation of Ireland itself. The Irish...free or Northern were reknown for their deep animosity towards England, an empire that ruled over them since medieval times. Ireland's departure from the British Empire was hardly a blow to England. It was the equivalent of a house cat confronting a lion. The British Empire was the modern-day Roman Empire. 17 countries around the world currently prospered under British rule. Had been since colonial/Victorian times. What would eventually be renamed "Great Britian", The British Isle at least was part of the British empire since the Middle Ages. This European island kingdom which consisted of the nations of England, both Irelands, Scotland, and Wales had been dominated by the English since the 12th century. The feisy Irish however, remained fiercely free until the sixteenth century when they were finally conquered by the notorious Henry the VIII, shortly after marrying his first wife, Catherine of Aragon.
At least three nations on every continent fell under English crown during the Industrial Age of the 1800s. So the loss of Ireland was barely noticed. Knowing they were no match for England's powerful army or royal navy, Irish rebels resorted to hasty but devastating "mini attacks", which only seemed to fuel Britian's fury. The Irish were on the verge of losing their "war"-if militant guerrilla attacks could be called such-when Great Britian grew tired of dealing with them. It was like a mother berating an insolent child. Militarily England could trounce Ireland, but she had long recognized its independence just as she did America's so she let Ireland go after allowing its inhabitants to vote for independence.
The staunch British had to admire the tenacity of the Irish people. The Irish were a different breed of Celts, even though everyone on the British Isle was Celtic descent...Irish, English, Welsh or Scottish. They all had a ferocity in them, but England had conquered the entire Isle for itself. It was not content with ruling just England. Medieval English invaders sought to rule whole damn island and succeeded by the 10th century effectively wiping out any competition in Wales, Scotland and Ireland. They could still be whatever they wanted as a culture as England allowed it, but they lived under English control, and bowed to English Kings. Except for Ireland, most were fine with it. Well-protected, they were unapologetically loyal to England. But the majority Irish...from day one they made their dislike of being ruled by a non-Irish anything known. Their disdain evolved into flat-out hatred for England, who would morph into Great Britain as she conquered more lands beyond. The British had to admire the Irish for their stubbornness.
But the age of brutality was over. Great Britain was now a developed industrial society like most of the world who sought negotiating first if possible before going to war. The English knew well they could ruthlessly crush the Irish Rebellion by all sorts of gruesome means if they truly wanted. This was not the middle ages, so times like this called for diplomacy first. A series of bloody conflicts were mere annoyances to the British. Their beloved Queen Victoria was half Irish, born to an Irish noble woman who married Victoria's powerful father Edward IX. Clearly her loyalty was to England, but she had no taste for war if it could be avoided. So she let Ireland vote to become a republic.
The Separatist Vote of 1919 gained most of Ireland her freedom although the north-end tip remained under British rule to this day. Most of the Northern Irish were loyal to England, which garnered animosity from their independent Southern brothers. But they all loved Broderick and Cerys. Even the separatist Ireland state and its president were nuts about Britain's royals. Even most of them still loved the British in general as the Brits did them. Broderick's great great grandmother, was the ruling Queen when the Irish left the British kingdom. Most of them anyway, but even still, the majority of independent Irish still loved her. Ireland were alot more subdued after their independence and began to develop a deep adoration for England's royalty. They liked the British...they just didn't want to be under their rule was all.
x
"It would be a real treat to have them here. The townsfolk would love it. Imagine the King and Queen of England, here, in Radiator Springs. What an awesome sight that would make, Murdock." Doc day dreamed. Murdock simply looked at him with a warm smile. "I'd love to go to England one day. I did a lot of traveling Europe when I was young, but never made it to Britain." Doc continued. Murdock smiled. "It's not bad. Of course it will always be home, but I find you Americans to be a fascinating band of people. I'm absolutely in love with this country, in particular with how you all speak English." Murdock confessed. Something suddenly came to mind.
"Did you know that Downtown Abbey was filmed in Kent, at the very estate I once inhabited?"
"No, get out of here! No I didn't know that!" Doc was elated.
"That mansion, that area, the whole estate was the setting for that series. Lord Royce and Lady Phyllis were kind enough to allow all the filming crew to use it. They and I, and a few others who didn't care to be extras on the set stayed with the Dutchess of Edinburgh while Downtown Abbey was being shot." "I love that series. It was Prince and Sally that got me hooked to it. They always watched it, and got me watching it with them. I really liked the story line." Doc confessed to watching a "girlie series" set in the 1920s. "That's British drama for you." Murdock set Doc's drink down.
He noticed Murdock was staring at him sternly now. Very sternly. "Now what are you waiting for? You said you were going to call the mistress. I know you, you like to procrastinate. If I don't keep my eye on you you'll try to weasel your way out of it. Now call her. And apologize."
x
Prince was at the Farmer's market which was behind Fillmore's place gathering up her groceries. She usually hit the store but there were many things she preferred at Farmer's Market. She felt her internal Bluetooth vibrating again and rolled her eyes. The hubby had tried to call her twice now and both times she had ignored it. She hadn't exactly forgotten the argument she just had but she wasn't going to dwell on it either. She pretty much had put it behind her now. But he had been trying to call her earlier, so she figured it was about their little rift. This time she finally decided to answer it. Setting her basket down she quickly darted outside, batting her eyelids in annoyance.
"(*SIGH-hhhhh*) YES, DOC!?"
"Look, I'm sorry about what I said okay?! Well somewhat sorry…" The Hornet was cruising in a circle in the middle of the family room. "What do you mean 'somewhat sorry'? You need to explain to me what 'somewhat sorry' is. Either you're sorry or you're not. I am sorry for calling you an asshole. Believe it, but forgive me for still being a little miffed right now." Prince bit tersely. She had whipped out a cigarette and revealed a lighter concealed in the rimmed hubcap on her left side. Doc's voice proceeded through her connection. "I didn't mean for it to come out like it did. Okay!" She rolled her eyes again as she lit her cigarette. She had this smoking thing down packed now. She automatically concealed the lighter back into her tire accessory and shook her head, blowing out smoke. "This whole thing with you taking this stuff, I'm just trying to understand it is all. I still think it's gross, Hon." "You know, I can live with you thinking chewing on an after mass pill is weird. We girls can do weird things. But you accusing me of being filthy, that really hurt me. That really hurt when you said that. You're implying that I'm nasty, that's pretty low dude." The Lambourghini vented. "You sound like you're in a crowd; where are you?" Doc questioned, causing her to roll out into the open where she wouldn't be around all the noise. "Don't try to change the topic Doc, alright?" she snapped.
"I'm not; I'm simply asking where you are? Are you at the market? If you are I'd like you to grab something for me…"
"I think not; I'm grabbing enough items for me and my son, and maybe for Alexis and Murdock and that's it. So you my dear can starve for all I care." she semi-teased him. Doc had to laugh. "I'm serious; you're in the dog house with me right now. Murdock and Alexis both retire at seven; you better hope one of them fix you something to eat before they get off the clock. "HELLO?" Prince warned him, then she suddenly heard a ring tone, like an actual phone ringing. He must have hung up. "I don't believe this shit. I can't believe this fucker actually hung up on me…!" she smiled in shock and was about to call him back when she heard him speak. "What did you just call me? EXCUSE me; I'm right here!" "You call me and then hang up on me?!"
"I swear it wasn't me Hon! You must have it set to something."
Then who's dialing? My line has a dial signal. What are you doing to the phone Love?" Prince implored him. "I'm not doing anything but sitting here talking. I don't hear anything." he assured her.
On her end, Prince heard a beep akin to a call being answered. Immediately she responded: "Hello?" She was greeted with another one. A low male voice spoke.
"Hello."
"Hey baby! It's me!" It was Gwen's sweet voice.
Prince: "Hello? Gwen?"
Wingo: "Hey 'Me'. Yo, baby. What's up? What's up wichu right now?"
Doc: "Who is that?" Then he recognized Wingo's voice.
Prince: "Gwen can you hear me? Wingo, can you hear me? Hudson are you still there?" "I'm right here. They can't hear us?" he asked her. Gwen's voice beamed over the others. "I think I might have left my perfume at your place last week." "You did. It's right here by the TV. Been meanin' to bring it to you but just kept forgetting about it." The Silvia responded. "I'm lying. I've been keepin' it here so I can smell it to remind me of you."
Prince: "I don't think they can hear us. We picked up their call somehow."
Prince sat still, surmising that a glitch of some sort caused her and Doc's conversation to pick up an incoming call from Gwen to Wingo. She and Doc could hear them just fine, but it became clear neither Wingo nor Gwen could hear them. "And everybody makes a big deal out of technology. Not perfect is it?" Doc taunted. "Shhhh…." his wife softly hushed him. He was in so what the hay. They might as well listen in on it. After all, the young couple kinda-sort of "butted" in on their conversation, not the other way around!
x
"I'll be over there by seven tomorrow. I finally went and got it done, what you and I talked about." Gwen hesitantly started. "About…..?" Wingo sounded lost. "You know, about me going on something since it's about to happen. You kept pushing me to go on something." She continued. "I know. I'm fucking with you. Look I don't want you to think I'm putting all the responsibility on you. It's not only your responsibility. I can cover it up; that's no problem. I prefer going in raw though. Just with you of course. I don't do this with every girl. If I met some chick I put something on it but I mean if I'ma be in a real relationship I don't feel the need to. I'll do it if you want." Gwen protested. "Rubbers feel weird to me to be honest; I never liked them." "Hm. Well, just know that IF something happens we'll be fine. I'ma step up and do what I gotta do for you and the little one. But it's just that...I don't want you to think I'm trying to stick this all on you. I was just pushin' you to do it cause like I said shit's fixing to get heavy between us. I ain' tryin'a be celibate n' shit." Wing's voice told her. Prince was trying to figure out what he was talking about, and so was Doc.
"I understand. I got the ICD; Nurse Becky put it in. It has a high success rate they say. " Gwen meekly answered. "Cool, cool. That'll work." he responded. Birth control! And he said it was about to get "heavy". Prince's curiosity was peaked to extreme nosiness now as Wingo carried on. "Those friends of yours that came up here the other day to help you move, I accidentally heard y'all talking your little girl talk and that was pretty interesting. You females talk about some weird shit." "You didn't hear everything did you?" Gwen panicked. "Uh, yeah I did. I wasn't trying to listen; you guys came over to where I was at but y'all didn't see me. Not trying to be nosy but I heard what they said about you not having that done before."
"Having what done?"
"Don't play dumb, you know what I'm talking 'bout." Wing's voice warned her. "Mr. Wingo I really don't know, I'm serious." she swore. "Is it true though? That you've never had a guy do that to you? So you've had sex about three times in your life and none of those cowards went down south. I smelled you when you got out of my shower yesterday, shi-iiiiit. Smellin' good like a motherfucker and nobody's ever bit that. You had my whole crib smellin' like whatever that body wash you put on. I could smell it waftin' through the crack in the door. I was about to bust up in there on you, seriously I almost dove on you in the shower." He haggled her. Prince and Doc immediately caught on. Gwen apparently washed with Wingo at his place and nothing transpired. So they took showers together but hadn't done it yet. "You never got revved in the middle of a wash either, have you?" Wingo questioned. Gwen could be heard giggling uncontrollably. "You've slept with girls in the middle of a shower?" "Shit yeah! Revving while wet is some of the best sex are you kidding me? I'ma be honest. All those times you came over here and took a wash I really didn't give you any privacy. You thought you were bathing in private. Yo you know that little peep hole in the door? It's inverted." Wingo confessed.
Prince gasped along with Gwen. Doc could be heard laughing rowdily. "This pervert!" Prince hissed. "I want to give him a high five." Doc told her. Prince shook her head in disbelief at his blatant proposition. MEN. "So they haven't taken showers together yet; he's been watching her while she took hers; what a dirty little Peeping Tom." Prince giggled wickedly.
"Are you serious Mr. Wingo? I was wondering about that; I never seen a bath lounge with a peep hole on it but I thought it was just like...a regular one you could look through from the inside. Are you saying that YOU'VE been watching me outside that door, watching me take a shower?!" she screeched indignantly. "That's right. Well not the first two times. But yeah like the third time was when I started monitoring you. That's why I got it put in so I could watch hotties I brought over wash off. I'ma bad boy, I know." Wingo's voice mumbled. "'...'MONITOR' me? Are you being serious right now?"
Wingo's response was peremptory. "Does it SOUND like I'm bullshitting? Seriously. Do I sound like I'm joking'? More like I had you under surveillance while you were in there doing your thing." " *Gasp* Oh my god dude, you are such a voyeur! You pervert!" Gwen gasped. "Guilty as charged. No seriously the peep hole was there when I moved in. I'm being honest about that. For real; I didn't put it there. Whoever lived in this unit before me got it installed. I never used it. Never had a reason until you started coming over. I won't lie to you; I really have been peepin' you in the shower. Like after the the second time I started watchin' you fo' real. Now answer my question, all two of those guys you been with, neither of them had to balls to go Down South.?" Wingo returned to his original question. This was going to be JUICY. There was a time when Prince wouldn't dream of listening in; she would have hung up or left the room when this topic was breached. Not today. This was too adorable. And too spicy to disconnect. "Are they talking about what I think they're talking about?" Doc needed to be sure. "I'm positive. Let's listen to it!" Prince egged her husband on.
Gwen's voice: "What's down south?" Wingo: "What a bunch of wusses. You don't know what that is? What do you think it is? Oh my god, girl you are cluless. The appropriate medical term for it is cun-ning-ling-us. You know what that is right?"
Prince almost lost it when she heard Wingo say it. "Oh boy, here we go." Doc started. Gwen was sent into a fit of giggling. She loved it when Wingo talked dirty. It was a turn-on when he spoke nasty on the phone. He made it sound so hardcore and sexy. "That term for it is so weird, now I'm blushing." Gwen giggled. "I know you're blushing. Alright, I'll say waxing then. I might just go down on you thug-style." Wingo growled. "And what is that?" she pushed. "Pour some liquor on you. Down there. That's from my Crippin' days; that's how gang members go down on chicks. Pour some malt liquor, beer or some shit on a bitch…sorry..lady and go to work." "But what is the liquor supposed to do?" she pressed him. "Nothing really. It just adds flavor to it I guess. The snatch tastes fine without it but that's just how hood players do it. Wet that shit up fo' real. Then lick it all off. Kiss it all off. I dunno; the alcohol hittin' a girl's undercarriage is all cold and then you put a hot tongue on it, it like sends them off the edge n' shit. It's a Crip-and-Blood thing. I know you're gettin' wet hearin' that shit. Aren't you. Don't start playing with yourself. If you do I at least wanna watch." Wingo crooned with a low growl. Gwen's voice was laughing in that sweet laughter she was known for. "Oh my god you have a dirty mind! You're getting me wet. I love it when you talk dirty. Seriously, dinner's on me tonight what do you want?"
"Doesn't matter to me. I gotta taste for anything really."
Gwen: "How about that new seafood joint by Wheel Well? I heard it's really good. They have a vegan menu too I wanna' look at." Wingo:"It is; the food is off the chain. I don't know about the vegan shit but I know they got vegan dishes there too. I really got a taste for seafood for real right now but not that kind of seafood." Gwen: "What kind do you want?"
Wingo: "Not no real seafood."
Gwen: "Okay...then...what kind? Are you finally willing to try a vegan dish?"
His answer: "No. But I do have a taste for some."
Her: "You're confusing me dude."
"The kind that's between your back suspensions."
Her: "(*SIGH*)...God..."
Prince gaped again then laughed silently. Doc chuckled then laughed at Gwen's befuddled response. "Wingo...stop it; you'll have me permanently blushing!"
"Hold on; I'm putting you on hold cause I gotta call commin' in. I'm expecting an important phone call here." Wingo put her on hold. "Okay."
"Hello? Hello? Anybody there? Hm. Maybe that wasn't them. I'm back. That wasn't them. Back to me and you. Yeah let that pan get wet the fuck up baby, 'cause you got me in a dirty-ass mood right now. My tongue is so far up in you I'm eating your stomach. I've been wantin' to lick the shit outta that oil pan. I don't believe in bragging but real dudes aim to please. Those dudes you had didn't return the favor which is fucked up. I hate guys like that that want girls to do all the work. Expected you to give shit but didn't reciprocate. You' gon find out shortly here what men do to you on the mat. When I put you upside down and lick your shit up and just make you come really fucking hard." He got no response. "Did you hear me? Hello?"
"WINGOMON! Dis is your MOTHA mon!"
"Oh... SHIT! I mean shoot; damn…DANG! MOM! HEYyyyyyyyy Mom; how are you? W-wh-uhh...wha; how are you? That was not for you obviously. I'm sorry." Wingo babbled as his mother Stony could be heard going ham in true Jamaican fashion. Her cell rang and she answered. Before she could even say Hello Wingo, thinking he had Gwen on the line, immediately launched into his lewd tirade. Prince nearly fell over on her side while Doc collapsed on the floor heaving with laughter.
Stony: "Mon whaddis' de matter wichu? Hah? Whattonearth baby boymon?! I'd smackenyou upside de' head right now if I could reach thru dissen' phone boy! Who are you talking to? Mon check de name when youanswer mon, yes? I don' needen to hear de conversatation, mon. " Stony's voice objected contritely. She found the situation offensive but humorous still. His stuttering was worse than Snot Rod's.
Wingo: "I...uh...ah, I know, and I'm sorry. You see I was um...well, you know; see Mom I...I was talking to somebody I just met and I, uh….I don't know how I got you. Sorry. No disrespect."
Stony (demure tone): "Me know you well, me son. You treateven one night standgirls wit respect. And for that me grateful for haven a son that noble towards de' ladies. But mewannaknow. Seriously as you are me middle child. Both your sisters aremarried mon. Even de' baby of you three. In ME culture dat's not supposed to happen. Children are to marry in de ORDER dey were born in. And you still single. Unacceptable. Time for you to marry and given me grandchildren like your sisters! So tell me truthfully, child. Iz she just a fling or potentially serious lady in'de life?"
"Potentially serious." Wingo answered honestly. "As in, I could see her being my wife."
Stony: "Den I shall meet her atten' some point, yes mon?"
"Yeah, for sho'. It's in the works. She's a sweet girl. I was havin' a moment with her and thought you were her. I auto-dialed you by mistake. My bad. You weren't supposed to hear that."
Stony: "...You INCESTuous little bastard, you. I knew you were an evil spirit when I birthed you. Me shoudda' had de priestess EXORCISE you de minute you were born! I knew it! DAT'S why you didn't cry whenyouwereborn! SOMETHING wasdematter wit you me knew. Midwife tellenmeyouokay, you were NOT okay! Me knew then when me had you! Mon you were cursed!" she ground it out, causing her son to laugh maniacally. She was teasing him now. Stony was getting a kick out of teasing her son, now that she knew where his lewd mind was at. It caused Doc and Prince to lose it. Stony: "Mon PAY ATTENTION next time! You fahdder is badenough, I don' need to havin' me son lusten afterme too mon! Me don' need to hear your perverted thoughts mon!"
Wingo: "Yes ma'am. I love you and I'll talk to you later Mom."
"Goodbye sweetie. Meloven you dearly. And checken' de caller ID next time okay mon?"
"Yes, Mother. I love you. I miss you, fo' real.
"I miss you too Little Big One. Me loven you too, mon. Me love you more dan life itself. I miss me baby. Goodbye sweetie."
"Bye Mom. (disconnect). Oh god, oh my god. Can't believe I did that shit. Gwen?"
x
Gwen: "I'm still here."
Wingo: "But yeah, the other day when you came out your shower, na'll while you were still in there you had me on the other side fixin' to pull a Doc."
Doc and Prince both were confused on their respective ends. "Huh?" Doc asked himself. Wingo continued his sultry confession: "I almost turned into Doc in that moment. You had me dreaming like he did with Prince and almost had me jacking myself off out there."
Doc froze in terror. Prince never found out about that "happy time" in his practice when she first arrived to Radiator Springs. Until now. She gaped, her eyes wide open. "Hudson? What is he talking about?" "I, er...um...nothing." Her husband bungled his response. There was a long silence. Then Gwen responded.
"I don't believe you."
"Believe it baby girl. I tell no lies."
Doc: "Just shut up, Wingo!"
Prince: "No Wingo, do tell."
Gwen: "Doc that Hornet Judge? He doesn't do raunchy stuff like that. Maybe he does I mean, you're never too old but he just seems so professional and wise and all." Gwen skeptically stated. Wingo snorted. "You don't know our Doc. The guy's full of surprises. My homeboy caught his ass. This was years ago, his wife, when she first got here he was dreaming about her and Boost caught him jacking off in his office. He had a dream he was revvin' her and was jackin' off." Wingo's voice cracked. Gwen started laughing uncontrollably. "Oh my god, really? Doc Hudson?"
"Doc Hudson." her boyfriend confirmed. "He 'got a bad boy streak like the rest of us dudes, believe that. I don't care how old that motherfucker is; he knows how to put it down. Don't mention it cause don't nobody know about it but us. My boys and now you: we're the only ones that know it. Even Gemmy and the twins don't know about that cause the boys never told them." Wingo advised her.
And now Prince.
"I'm good at secrets; you know me, it's just I'm picturing him and he's so noble and all. Even judges-slash-doctors have lives." Gwen told him. "He's full of surprises, trust me. You almost made me repeat what he did when Boost caught him when I smelled that body wash you were using."
Gwen: "You're too much Mr. Wingo. You're so...frank and that's why I adore you. You just tell me what's on your mind, you don't beat around the bush and you're so...raw about it."
Wingo: "Real guys are blunt with their girls. His voice now turned solemn. "Gettin' back to what we talked about earlier, look I was just saying that, I look forward to showing you how much I really dig you. Love you. When we hit the mat I want it to be special." "So do I. Chrysler I adore you." Gwen's soft voice told him."I'll holla' at'chu later." Wingo ended the call. "Love you." "I love you." she told him. "Bye." When they believed the air cleared, Doc spoke first, hearing his wife gleefully enjoying herself. "Well, that was very intriguing." He was hoping she'd forget the part where his name and his incident came up. "No," the wife said. "It was awesome!"
And so was her newly-discovered secret about her husband.
