Thanks for the reviews. ^_^

Now, onto the - uh - story! Yeah, that's what it is!

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CHAPTER 2: THOU SHALT NOT SING

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After running down a very strange long path, constantly checking behind him for a barbaric stalker, James arrives in town.

James: Hark! I hath cometh to seeth thou true heart, O, light of my life!

James listens for a moment. Crickets chirp nearby.

James: Mary, O, sweet Mary, doth thou not heareth my call?

Listen. Silent. Crickets.

James: Doth thou not love me? Doth thou wisheth me to jumpeth off a tall cliff and become a martyr for thou?

Listen silent crickets.

James: Crickets! Thou art want me to listen to thou wonderful crickets!

The crickets implode.

James: Perhaps thou doth not want me to like crickets?

James waits for a moment.. Then another.. then another.. The day wears on as James wait.

James: I art still waitingeth for thou great response! What doth thou want me to doeth?

A butterfly flutters by.

James: Ah, the wonderful majestic flutterby! Thou dost want me to follow thou personal flutterby, yes?

Suddenly, A BLIZZARD OF BUTTERFLIES COMES CRASHING FROM THE HEAVENS!

James: Argh! Thou doth want me to love thou flutterbys!. I doeth! I DOETH!!

There is a quiet sigh somewhere.

The hysterically hillarious flash flood of the horde of butterflies stops on a dime.

James walks over, digs through the butterflies, snags the dime, and puts it in his pocket.

James: O, greatest Mary out of all the Marys in the world, thou hath understood me! But alas, what shalt I do now...?

Crickets.

James: Er.. O, greatest Mary out of all the Marys in the world, thou hath understood me! But alas, what shalt I do now... eth?

A butterfly limps out of the skittering mound and flies sloppily into the fog.

James: Thou doth want me to followeth thou flutterby! So shalt it beeth said, so shalt it beeth done!

James prances joyfully off after the butterfly.

James: La-la-la-la-la-la-la.. !

He follows it down an alleyway and down a dirt path before it coughs pathetically and lands dead in front of a construction site.

James: Thou.. Wanteth me to entereth thou.. Er.. Construction site?

A piece of wood breaks off of a lazily put together wood fence.

James: Ooookay ..

He steps through a crack large enough for him to fit through.

Something is hissing nearby.. No, not hissing.. Playing! It's a recorder! It keeps on playing with a person to play it.

James: Such fine tastes thou haveth, O fine Mary! I never kneweth that thou loved the instrument of such heavenly pleasentry!

Something gets up from some rubble. It's.. Something horrible.. No. It's..

James: THOU ART AN EVIL MINSTREL!

Minstrel: O brave sir James, sir James of --

James: Willeth thou art please stop thou singing?

Minstrel: Thou James had ki-

James: SHUT UP!

Minstrel: -is wife!

James: I HAST WISHETH THOU TO PLUGETH THOU OWN DIRTY HOLE IN THOU MORONIC FACE! NOWETH I SHALT SMITE YOU BY F O R C E!

He grabs his dime out of his pocket, missing the obvious wooden plank, and tosses it at the minstrel's head. It hits it with a barely audibile * dink * and flies toward the ground, spinning and spinning on it before gravity takes its place, making it lay flat on the ground. The evil minstrel grabs his head and screams -

Minstrel: O, WOE IS ME!

He slumps to the ground, dead. James picks up the dime and prods the dead minstrel with it.

James: Thou art not human? Indeed!

He then walks away with the recorder. It has stopped. James looks to the sky and smiles.

James: I seeth that thou shalt want me to know of absolutely annoyingish minstrels neareth by?

It plays again. James hears something else in the recorder.. A tune of some kind..

James: What.. You.. Say.. About his... Co.. Company.. is.. iiiiiiis.... What you.. What you... Say about.. Society? What art tho-- O, I see! Thou art playing Tom Sawyer byeth an early rock band named Rush! Thou doth haveth good music knowledge, but alas, dost thou knoweth THIS?!

James begins to play a tune.

A crackily voice comes from the recorder.

" .. Er.. Umm... Yeah.. God, that's tough. I mean, Jesus dude, I'm only good at things like Rush and Boston, not friggin' Weezer or something! What do you think I am, a high school student or something? Oh yeah, I WAS a High School student. That's when we first met.. But do you think I'm some sort of a punk rock fanatic, you weirdo?! I hate that crap! Always have!"

James stops abruptly.

James: Noeth, noeth, noteth at alleth!

"Yeah, you just keep telling me that. I know your head! I KNOW YOUR HEAD!"

James: Thou art my psyciatrist? Thou hath beeneth ignoring my most sincereth calls!

"Wha.. What?"

James: For weeks thou hath been ignoring me!

"What in the devil are you talking about?!"

James: THOU KNOWETH I HAVETH PROBLEMS! PROBLEMS THAT ONLY THOU CAN CURETH! THOU DOTH KNOWETH ABOUT MINE CHILD PORN ON MY COMPUTERTH!

"Er.. I'm.. Uhh... Not your shrink."

James: Thou.. Art not?

"............Nope."

James laughs nervously.

James: I.. I.. ALL THOSE BOYS ARE OVER 18!

"Yeah. Sure. God, I KNEW you weren't into me! Espescially with that moustache, your shirt always ripped open to expose your chest hair, and your horrendously creepy Michael Jackson-esque voice! You were just in it for the money, WEREN'T YOU JAMES? You and your weird obsession with SHAKESPEARE! The freak couldn't even spell his own name! YOU SPEAK LIKE IN HIS PLAYS TO HIDE YOUR REAL VOICE!"

James: THOU SHALT NOT SLANDERETH SHAKESPEARE! I SHALT SMITE YOU WITH MY TRUSTYETH DIME!

"OOoooooh, I'm SO scared."

James: Thou shalt be, anyway! IT ISETH A DIMETH OF FEAR!

"Whatever. Later."

The recorder bursts into a million pieces.

James: Mary, couldeth thou not stoppeth the possesseth recorder?

"Moron. I AM Mary."

James looks at the pieces.

James: I SHALT FIND THOU ONE WAYETH OR ANOTHER, DEAD WIFETH OR NOTETH!

"What an IDIOT!"

*over the pieces of the recorder some muffled footsteps are heard and there's another voice.

"Someone call me?" says the voice.

"GO AWAY HARRY!" says the first voice.

James: I LOVETH THOU, MARY, AND I SHALT NOT FLOUNDER IN MY QUEST!