Hello, fellow fanfic readers 'n' writers! I have had a fairly strange idea, and decided to turn it into a chapter, 'cause, that's what you do, innit? Anyway, the reference should be right there in the open for you to spot. If any of you remember where it's from, good on you! You'll get something. I haven't decided yet.
DISCLAIMER: I'm sorry, but the disclaimer you are trying to contact is out of order. Please use another chapter to connect.
Marshall was excited. He was about to go out to meet someone important, and he was just finished preparing himself physically and mentally for this moment. [I wonder what it could be, but then I realise that it's in the title and I laugh at myself.]
However, as soon as he stepped outside, the sound of a siren rang out and raced around the air. His best friend, his best friend's partner-in-crime-prevention, and his best friend's partner-in-crime-prevention's only sibling all approached him with serious looks on their faces. "What's going on?" he asked them.
Without speaking, Chase pulled out a pair of pawcuffs and promptly put them on the Dalmatian's paws, after putting them behind his back. Marshall protested, but nothing was done to stop the German Shepherd.
Instead, The Expert and The Criminal proceeded to read Marshall his rights as Chase forced him back inside his house. [I've always wondered. Everyone gets rights, right? So who gets lefts? A while ago I thought only left-handed people got lefts, but now I don't know. Care to explain?]
"Excuse me, but you're under arrest for not looking your very best. You have the right to remain dressed. Any clothes you put on must be approved by the Fashion Police. You have the right to apply a proper fitting for the best experience possible. If you cannot afford one, one will be given you by the experts at your local parlour. You have the right to look your best on your date, and any occasion. If you do not wish to proceed with the entire process of preparation, you may ask to stop at any time. Understanding these rights as they have been read to you, are you ready to begin the preparation without a fitting present?" [Hours of potentially useful research wasted on learning the reading of rights passage. I'm not even studying anything close to law.]
Marshall was rendered speechless.
Then The Criminal and Chase both burst into hysterical laughter at their friend's nearly mortified face, Chase meanwhile removing the pawcuffs.
"Whose idea?" Marshall asked, aplomb partly recovered.
Two looked at the other, one smiling, one not.
"Stefan!" Marshall whined.
"What?" The Criminal defended himself. [Maybe the fact that you pretended to arrest him and gave him probably one of the biggest frights of his life? I don't know, just spitballing.]
"You scared the wits outta me!"
"He just wanted to help," The Expert justified. "Although, since we scared you so badly, we'll help you get really ready for your date. Fashion Police at your service. Isn't that right?" He said that in a tone that gave Chase and Stefan an immediate idea that they should agree in lieu of protesting. [That's right. Always do as The Expert says. No matter how stupid it sounds.]
"Oh, absolutely."
"Of course, of course."
"Thanks, guys - I guess," Marshall stated uncertainly. "But are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"Yes," The Expert said while he rummaged through the closet. [He's an expert at these things.]
"At the least, he is. I, meanwhile, have zero faith in myself when it comes to these things," Chase expressed. Marshall gave him a face that said 'You and me both'.
"But if we didn't, why would we be here?" Stefan questioned rationally.
"To play a very bad joke."
"Very funny, brother." To The Expert's credit, Stefan still laughed a tiny bit. "But seriously, we are gonna make sure you are ready for this. Or we aren't the Fashion Police."
The Expert poked his head back into view from the wardrobe. "And you can start by closing your mouth and actually doing something."
Stefan rolled his eyes and walked into the room where his brother was. As he did, he mused, "I can never get over just how big these can be on the inside, even though the outside is so small." [I headcannon. Sue me now or hold your peace until you make up your mind to sue me.]
"Ignore that comment," Chase said as Marshall was about to complain about it. "You should get your fur in order. Some of your spots are looking askew."
"How would you know?" Marshall snickered. Chase laughed too. "Help me with my fur."
It took not ten minutes for Marshall and Chase to be done aligning the Dalmatian's surprisingly tangled fur. At one point Chase voiced his surprise that there were so many knots, as he couldn't see them normally. [I guarantee that the animators did it like that so the viewers like me who point out absolutely everything wrong with shows we watch didn't say anything about that.]
"When was the last time you did this?" he had asked. Marshall gave a three-fourths shrug. [How does one do three-fourths of a shrug? Am - am I missing this vital piece of information from my life? Must research now...]
Nevertheless they finished quickly and checked on the two albino brothers choosing the attire for Marshall.
They saw Stefan leave the closet, throwing his paw into the air. "You know what? Forget it, I don't even care anymore. Come out here."
The Shepherd and the Dalmatian looked at each other in confusion.
The Expert stepped out. "Hello, Chase. Marshall. I see you've finished your end."
"What's going on?" Chase asked him.
"I'll tell you," Stefan interrupted. "We were trying to pick out a dress code, and for all of them there was apparently something wrong, according to him." He pointed at The Expert, who half-shrugged. [There. Something we're all very familiar with. Normal service has been resumed.]
"In my defense, they were all identical." Marshall smiled awkwardly. "And none really said 'going out' to me."
"What are they? Let me see." Chase wandered around back and immediately looked back at Marshall with a deadpan expression. "Seriously?"
"I wasn't really prepared for this kind of advanced movements!" [Said the poem.]
"Yet you had a poem ready for her when you confessed," The Expert said drolly. "And several others. I saw the stack." [Told you! Ha!]
Marshall's face flushed.
"If you were prepared for that, you should really have been prepared for this, on the off chance she reciprocated, which she did." He paused. "But we'll let you off on the condition that neither Chase or I have anything like that either."
"Did - "
"Yes, Chase. And it looks very similar to Marshall's, might I add." Chase's face dropped.
"But what'll I do? She's expecting - " Marshall worried.
"She's expecting you. Not your suit and tie," Stefan said reasonably. "You can do without a fanciful dressing." [Hey ... isn't that the 'she's marrying me, not my clothes' thing from Shakespeare?]
"But, aren't you the Fashion Police? You said I must remain dressed."
"Surprised you even remotely remember something about that," Stefan said lowly.
"No, we said you have the right to remain dressed, and any clothes you put on must be approved by the Fashion Police," Chase recalled.
"And they were not. So you're going as is," The Expert arbitrated. "She'll still appreciate the work you did on your fur. You'll be fine. Enjoy yourself." And he pushed Marshall out and into the evening setting. [Nice and crisp. Like how I like my fries. Unless you like soft fries, in which case, you do you.]
The Dalmatian took a step, before looking back and mouthing thanks to the three pups who had helped him.
Chase and Stefan smiled. The Expert gave a minuscule nod.
With that Marshall walked off alongside the sunset. [I couldn't really say 'into the sunset' because, well: first, the sun sets over the water, so he can't exactly walk too far that way; second, it would be geographically incorrect.]
As he disappeared from view, Stefan thought of something. "Should we have given him his truck?"
"No," The Expert answered instantly.
"Would mess up his fur," Chase followed up not a half-second later. [Which is why they make such a good crime-fighting team.]
"Okay, then." He stayed silent for five seconds. "Should we follow him?"
"Yes," The Expert said, again quickly.
"Wouldn't miss it for the whole store of deluxe chew toys," Chase said after him. [Which is why they make good friends.]
And the three companions stepped after their expectant friend.
The Dalmatian would return to the Lookout with stars in his eyes, even more unsteady feet, a red mark on his cheek, and three very satisfied comrades. [Heeheehee...]
Ooh, how lazy was I on this one? I suppose that's what happens when you take too many hiatuses ... hiati ... whatever we call them nowadays. Anyway, here is this chapter. I really hope you even read this lazy piece of garbage and didn't just skip to the end because the notes here are funnier than the actual document.
'Til next time, don't be a stranger!