"Well if we're going to visit this Remus, we'd better get going." said
Llama, "Shall I get us some tickets for the train?" He scampered off to the
train station, which was conveniently located across the street.
By the time Llama got back with the train tickets, the sky had clouded over eerily and the puffs of smoke the train emitted were just visible over the horizon. Ichabod and Shawn had obviously embarrassed themselves, and were seated as far away from the girls as possible. Llama sat in the middle of them, twiddling his thumbs merrily.
When the train arrived, they boarded silently, and found their seats.
"Damn, it looks spooky out there..." Shawn commented, "Spooky...kk-kk-key kk-kk-key kk-kk-key..."
"Stop it!" Sarah shoved Shawn playfully, and Shawn grinned back at her like a schoolboy. Sarah moved closer to him on their bench, and Shawn broke the tension by throwing his arms around her. They began to kiss madly, abandoning all reason. Ichabod sighed contemptibly. He couldn't work up the courage to throw his arms around Leah, and he hated watching Shawn get some while he himself sat there, totally alone. So he did the next best thing.
"AAAAH! SPIDER! SPIDER!" He jumped up on top of Leah, curling up into the fetal position and eyeing the floor madly.
"I didn't see a spider..." Sarah said, looking up.
"Of COURSE you didn't!" Ichabod raved, "IT WAS HUGE!" Leah rolled her eyes,
"You wanna make out with me, don't you?" Ichabod paused, and then nodded guiltily. Leah grasped his hand,
"All right then!" They ran off to another car, Ichabod kissing her as they ran.
Llama Van Tassel twiddled his thumbs merrily.
When they got to their destination, Ichabod and Leah stumbled back to Shawn and Sarah's car, laughing all the way.
"Oh Icky, you're so hilarious!" She mused. Llama raised an eyebrow,
"Icky?" He asked skeptically, but no one paid much attention. Shawn and Ichabod busily did their shirts back up as they stepped off the train.
"Any idea where this Remus chappie lives?" asked Ichabod. He'd given up on re-dressing, and his shirt was misbuttoned.
"In that purple tent with the ruddy great sign that says "Remus Lupin, Clairvoyant?"" suggested Llama. Ichabod blinked,
"Jolly good then. On we go."
Pulling open the purple curtains over the tent, an acrid cloud of incense smoke hit them in the face. A couple could be seen making out wildly inside, and all too late the man who was presumably Remus noticed their presence.
"Um, hey Remy." Leah said, "Glad to see you and Laura are still at it."
"Quite," He said, adjusting his turban, "What can I do for you?" It wasn't until Ichabod had sat down with his arm around her that he commented, "Found yourself a man?"
"Indeed," Leah replied, pulling closer to Ichabod. Remus lit another incense stick and stared at them intensely,
"What can I do to predict the complicated maze of time for you?" He swirled his hands majestically around his big crystal ball, only slightly obscured by a great big crack straight through the middle.
"You're not one of those topless psychics, are you?" asked Sarah.
"I can be if you want me to be, sugar..." Remus wiggled his eyebrows.
"Re-MUS!" Laura delivered him a sharp slap, "Any more and you'd start to sound like Sirius."
"Anyway." He continued. He placed his hands on the crystal ball and rubbed it fondly, massaging it with his fingertips. Everyone was slightly surprised when he knelt down to it and began to kiss it fondly. He looked up, "Sorry. It helps me get into the moment. Now..." He went back to making out with the glass orb, starting to lick its surface. Laura didn't look like any of this was out of the ordinary, so Ichabod cleared his throat tensely, and waited for Remus to finish his queer ritual.
"Now then." Remus' head snapped up like a Jack-In-The-Box. "Your problem is that you," He pointed to Shawn, "Have knocked her up." He pointed to Sarah, "And your child is going to be born a chicken." He sat back, satisfied and waiting for their shocked and amazed responses. They weren't exactly to his expectations, as Shawn had fallen to the floor, his body ravaged by silent giggles, the girls had been sent into laughing fits, and Ichabod's head currently rested on the table as he pounded one hand rhythmically in hysterics.
"WHAT?" Remus asked over the tumult, "I was right, wasn't I?" Ichabod was the first one with the ability to answer.
"Well, the chicken bit was right." He wiped a few tears from his eyes, "The chickens in our town are being decapitated by the Headless Horseman, and we want to know where he is."
"Oh..." Remus looked horribly put out, "I see..."
"No problem," Leah said briskly, "Now can you tell us where the Horseman is, or not?"
"Yesh!" spoke up Ethan from the corner, "Tell ush!" Remus took no notice of the talking headless chicken, but instead sniffled softly,
"I've never been wrong before. Not once." He looked to the floor, and Laura put a comforting arm around him. Remus looked dolefully over to his crystal ball,
"Shall I try again?"
"YES." Ichabod said, "Please. We REALLY need to know. You're our only hope." Remus sniffed again,
"Really?" Ichabod rolled his eyes,
"Yes, really. Now GET ON WITH IT." Remus stared contently into his crystal ball,
"The man you seek," He switched back into mystical-mode, "Lurks..." He raised an eyebrow at the ball, "That can't be right."
"What?" Sarah asked briskly, "What is it?" Remus tapped his crystal ball, confused, but then replied,
"Caesar's Palace Casino in Las Vegas, Nevada...Don't ask me. Ask the ball."
"Thanks a bunch, Remus!" Leah asked as they left, throwing money on the table after them, "We're gonna have to trust you this time."
A train whisked them to London, where they were to catch the plane from. The lot of them looked a bit conspicuous in the middle of London International Airport, Shawn and Ichabod with their misbuttoned and old- fashioned shirts, and a headless chicken in tow.
"I wonder if they shell shocolate covered almondsh here. I'm having a craving for shome of thoshe." Ethan spoke up, gathering some strange looks from some of their neighbours in the first class lounge. One man even fainted. "What?" Ethan spluttered, "Ain'tshoo ever sheen a headlesh talking shchicken before?"
"I'd think it best for you to stay quiet and play dead..." Ichabod tried vainly to silence Ethan.
"Nonshenshe!" Ethan cried, "I want shome shervishe!" He snapped his wing, "Barkeep, bring me a largshe Coshmopolitan and shome almondsh." As a last resort, Shawn stuffed his hand down Ethan's neck. He smiled nonchalantly at their fellow passengers,
"What a great ventriloquist my friend Ichabod here is, eh? Give him a clap, ladies and gents!" A spattering of applause broke out, and Shawn tried to clap along with them, but then realized he still had a chicken on one hand. It wasn't soon enough when the announcer called them to their seats. Shawn bore off to the bathroom to sort out Ethan. No sooner had he yanked his hand from the neck, did Ethan break out in a series of messy splutters,
"What in GODSH NAME DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING PSHHSHHSHSHHSHHH!" He sent a constant spray of blood all over Shawn.
"You CAN'T talk. We had a close scrape back there. These are NORMAL people. In their world, headless chickens are DEAD! And moreover, they can't talk!"
"Well then what kind of a pshycho world is thish we're living in?"
"The kind where conformity is fun and Vin Diesel is the king of poster boys. Stoned monkeys control them all." Shawn spat.
"Yesh. All right then." Ethan jumped off the sink and began to toddle unsteadily over to the door, "If you'll excushe me..."
"Did you not HEAR me?" Shawn cried, "You can't be SEEN. Here. Play dead." Ethan flopped over onto his side, and let Shawn pick him up by the ankles. Oh, the looks he got, walking down the aisle of the plane wearing a shirt drenched in blood and holding a headless chicken.
"Terrible nosebleed..." Shawn offered to a particularly scandalized passenger. He plopped down next to Sarah.
"Jesus Christ, what happened to you?"
"Ethan and I had a bit of an episode in the bathroom. No worries." The lady wheeled by with the drinks cart. With no more than a sideways glance at Shawn's bloodstained shirt, she smiled,
"Any beverages for you today?"
"Diet Shprite with a shqueeshe of lime!" croaked Ethan, but Shawn silenced him,
"Yes, that, and a large vodka on the rocks." He leaned back stressfully in his seat.
"And anything for the...ahem...happy couple?" asked the woman, in an attempt to pry apart Ichabod and Leah.
"Condoms!" gasped Ichabod, and he received a prompt slap from Leah. The lady smiled tensely, handed over their drinks, and wheeled away.
"I shaid lime, not lemon!" bitched Ethan, "Jeeshush."
By the time Llama got back with the train tickets, the sky had clouded over eerily and the puffs of smoke the train emitted were just visible over the horizon. Ichabod and Shawn had obviously embarrassed themselves, and were seated as far away from the girls as possible. Llama sat in the middle of them, twiddling his thumbs merrily.
When the train arrived, they boarded silently, and found their seats.
"Damn, it looks spooky out there..." Shawn commented, "Spooky...kk-kk-key kk-kk-key kk-kk-key..."
"Stop it!" Sarah shoved Shawn playfully, and Shawn grinned back at her like a schoolboy. Sarah moved closer to him on their bench, and Shawn broke the tension by throwing his arms around her. They began to kiss madly, abandoning all reason. Ichabod sighed contemptibly. He couldn't work up the courage to throw his arms around Leah, and he hated watching Shawn get some while he himself sat there, totally alone. So he did the next best thing.
"AAAAH! SPIDER! SPIDER!" He jumped up on top of Leah, curling up into the fetal position and eyeing the floor madly.
"I didn't see a spider..." Sarah said, looking up.
"Of COURSE you didn't!" Ichabod raved, "IT WAS HUGE!" Leah rolled her eyes,
"You wanna make out with me, don't you?" Ichabod paused, and then nodded guiltily. Leah grasped his hand,
"All right then!" They ran off to another car, Ichabod kissing her as they ran.
Llama Van Tassel twiddled his thumbs merrily.
When they got to their destination, Ichabod and Leah stumbled back to Shawn and Sarah's car, laughing all the way.
"Oh Icky, you're so hilarious!" She mused. Llama raised an eyebrow,
"Icky?" He asked skeptically, but no one paid much attention. Shawn and Ichabod busily did their shirts back up as they stepped off the train.
"Any idea where this Remus chappie lives?" asked Ichabod. He'd given up on re-dressing, and his shirt was misbuttoned.
"In that purple tent with the ruddy great sign that says "Remus Lupin, Clairvoyant?"" suggested Llama. Ichabod blinked,
"Jolly good then. On we go."
Pulling open the purple curtains over the tent, an acrid cloud of incense smoke hit them in the face. A couple could be seen making out wildly inside, and all too late the man who was presumably Remus noticed their presence.
"Um, hey Remy." Leah said, "Glad to see you and Laura are still at it."
"Quite," He said, adjusting his turban, "What can I do for you?" It wasn't until Ichabod had sat down with his arm around her that he commented, "Found yourself a man?"
"Indeed," Leah replied, pulling closer to Ichabod. Remus lit another incense stick and stared at them intensely,
"What can I do to predict the complicated maze of time for you?" He swirled his hands majestically around his big crystal ball, only slightly obscured by a great big crack straight through the middle.
"You're not one of those topless psychics, are you?" asked Sarah.
"I can be if you want me to be, sugar..." Remus wiggled his eyebrows.
"Re-MUS!" Laura delivered him a sharp slap, "Any more and you'd start to sound like Sirius."
"Anyway." He continued. He placed his hands on the crystal ball and rubbed it fondly, massaging it with his fingertips. Everyone was slightly surprised when he knelt down to it and began to kiss it fondly. He looked up, "Sorry. It helps me get into the moment. Now..." He went back to making out with the glass orb, starting to lick its surface. Laura didn't look like any of this was out of the ordinary, so Ichabod cleared his throat tensely, and waited for Remus to finish his queer ritual.
"Now then." Remus' head snapped up like a Jack-In-The-Box. "Your problem is that you," He pointed to Shawn, "Have knocked her up." He pointed to Sarah, "And your child is going to be born a chicken." He sat back, satisfied and waiting for their shocked and amazed responses. They weren't exactly to his expectations, as Shawn had fallen to the floor, his body ravaged by silent giggles, the girls had been sent into laughing fits, and Ichabod's head currently rested on the table as he pounded one hand rhythmically in hysterics.
"WHAT?" Remus asked over the tumult, "I was right, wasn't I?" Ichabod was the first one with the ability to answer.
"Well, the chicken bit was right." He wiped a few tears from his eyes, "The chickens in our town are being decapitated by the Headless Horseman, and we want to know where he is."
"Oh..." Remus looked horribly put out, "I see..."
"No problem," Leah said briskly, "Now can you tell us where the Horseman is, or not?"
"Yesh!" spoke up Ethan from the corner, "Tell ush!" Remus took no notice of the talking headless chicken, but instead sniffled softly,
"I've never been wrong before. Not once." He looked to the floor, and Laura put a comforting arm around him. Remus looked dolefully over to his crystal ball,
"Shall I try again?"
"YES." Ichabod said, "Please. We REALLY need to know. You're our only hope." Remus sniffed again,
"Really?" Ichabod rolled his eyes,
"Yes, really. Now GET ON WITH IT." Remus stared contently into his crystal ball,
"The man you seek," He switched back into mystical-mode, "Lurks..." He raised an eyebrow at the ball, "That can't be right."
"What?" Sarah asked briskly, "What is it?" Remus tapped his crystal ball, confused, but then replied,
"Caesar's Palace Casino in Las Vegas, Nevada...Don't ask me. Ask the ball."
"Thanks a bunch, Remus!" Leah asked as they left, throwing money on the table after them, "We're gonna have to trust you this time."
A train whisked them to London, where they were to catch the plane from. The lot of them looked a bit conspicuous in the middle of London International Airport, Shawn and Ichabod with their misbuttoned and old- fashioned shirts, and a headless chicken in tow.
"I wonder if they shell shocolate covered almondsh here. I'm having a craving for shome of thoshe." Ethan spoke up, gathering some strange looks from some of their neighbours in the first class lounge. One man even fainted. "What?" Ethan spluttered, "Ain'tshoo ever sheen a headlesh talking shchicken before?"
"I'd think it best for you to stay quiet and play dead..." Ichabod tried vainly to silence Ethan.
"Nonshenshe!" Ethan cried, "I want shome shervishe!" He snapped his wing, "Barkeep, bring me a largshe Coshmopolitan and shome almondsh." As a last resort, Shawn stuffed his hand down Ethan's neck. He smiled nonchalantly at their fellow passengers,
"What a great ventriloquist my friend Ichabod here is, eh? Give him a clap, ladies and gents!" A spattering of applause broke out, and Shawn tried to clap along with them, but then realized he still had a chicken on one hand. It wasn't soon enough when the announcer called them to their seats. Shawn bore off to the bathroom to sort out Ethan. No sooner had he yanked his hand from the neck, did Ethan break out in a series of messy splutters,
"What in GODSH NAME DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING PSHHSHHSHSHHSHHH!" He sent a constant spray of blood all over Shawn.
"You CAN'T talk. We had a close scrape back there. These are NORMAL people. In their world, headless chickens are DEAD! And moreover, they can't talk!"
"Well then what kind of a pshycho world is thish we're living in?"
"The kind where conformity is fun and Vin Diesel is the king of poster boys. Stoned monkeys control them all." Shawn spat.
"Yesh. All right then." Ethan jumped off the sink and began to toddle unsteadily over to the door, "If you'll excushe me..."
"Did you not HEAR me?" Shawn cried, "You can't be SEEN. Here. Play dead." Ethan flopped over onto his side, and let Shawn pick him up by the ankles. Oh, the looks he got, walking down the aisle of the plane wearing a shirt drenched in blood and holding a headless chicken.
"Terrible nosebleed..." Shawn offered to a particularly scandalized passenger. He plopped down next to Sarah.
"Jesus Christ, what happened to you?"
"Ethan and I had a bit of an episode in the bathroom. No worries." The lady wheeled by with the drinks cart. With no more than a sideways glance at Shawn's bloodstained shirt, she smiled,
"Any beverages for you today?"
"Diet Shprite with a shqueeshe of lime!" croaked Ethan, but Shawn silenced him,
"Yes, that, and a large vodka on the rocks." He leaned back stressfully in his seat.
"And anything for the...ahem...happy couple?" asked the woman, in an attempt to pry apart Ichabod and Leah.
"Condoms!" gasped Ichabod, and he received a prompt slap from Leah. The lady smiled tensely, handed over their drinks, and wheeled away.
"I shaid lime, not lemon!" bitched Ethan, "Jeeshush."