Wow! It's been a while hasn't it! I'm sure glad to be back tho...too much
homework is never a good thing, and for about a month there, I had an
absolute TON of it. But I am back in full swing. There will be a bit of
French language in this one...actually more than a bit. But all translations
will be at the end of the chap. This one will either be a long one, or i'll
upload more chaps at the same time, k?
(Thankfully). So here is the next chapter of "This story is about love at
the Moulin rouge", chapter 8.
Chapter 8: Oh the places you'll go!
The velvet curtains open up onto the computer screen, leaving the audience in hushed silence and anticipation. Let the show begin.
Christian sat in the lofty train compartment. The seats were comfortable, the food was good, he was wearing his comfortable clothes, and it was a nice day. Harold had been true to his word, and had arranged tickets to France for Christian, Netti and Butler. Netti was in the washroom...trains didn't move her so well. He suspected that she would be staying in there for the rest of the trip. Butler was...well he didn't actually know where Butler was, probably pestering somebody for more of the little scones. He couldn't blame him really; the scones were actually quite good. Even with all of the positive things around him, he still couldn't get into a good mood. He couldn't help but feel that something was going to go wrong. When he saw her, what would he say? What would he do? What would the duke do? He didn't truly believe that Harold knew what he was doing. What was he going to do; just get there, sweep Satine off her feet and say
"Great to see yah hun! Let's go!"
But he was going to Satine. Satine. Satine... he kept repeating that word in his head; he couldn't believe it was actually happening! Jealousy had taken her away from him, and fate had given them another chance. Soon they would be reunited again. Soon, soon! Very soon indeed! For the first time yet this trip, Christian smiled. The scenery really was very pretty. He wondered if Butler had gotten any more of those scones; he was starting to get hungry.
* * *
Harold sat nervously in the office. He had gone 2 days earlier than
Christian and his escorts, as to prepare for the Duke. This place was
their usual meeting spot. A dingy little building just outside of
Montmarte. It had been renovated slightly on the inside in all of the
rooms, but this room was done up so well...it was like a palace! Harold did
not know why the duke spent so much time on this little cachette, this
little hiding place. It's not like they spent a lot of time here anyway,
but who knew how many clients the duke had, all meeting in this large
room, filled with jewels and gold. Extravagance and wealth, power and
supremacy oozed from every corner of the room. Harold on his every visit
was tempted to take a few jewels. Just a few would probably pay his
debts. But every time his eyes wandered over to the pot of rubies on the
table next to him, he remembered that the walls have ears and everything
else has eyes. The duke would find out somehow, he knew that. Just then,
the duke walked in, followed by his ever present manservant Warner who
loomed over them both like a statue.
"Bonjour Monsieur Duke! Comment faites-tu ce beau jour?" He said.
"Cut the formalities Zidler, I'm fine. Let's get this over with, shall
we?" he asked, although it was a rhetorical question. His voice was as
nasally as ever, so much so that he pronounced Harold's name as Zeedleur.
"Yes, yes, well that's good." Harold answered back. "I have some
important news to tell you about, our writer is on the way here as we
speak!" The dukes head picked up, his enthusiasm restored. He wouldn't
mind having another source of income, and the sooner this writer got
here, the sooner they could start the Moulin rouge back up again. Harold
continued.
"Yes, well i'm afraid that you already know him, his name is Christian
James and-"
"WHAT?!?!?!?!" The duke roared. "YOU IMBECILE! ARE YOU SOME KIND OF
IDIOT, BRINGING THE BOY BACK HERE?!?!?!"
"Please, Monsieur Duke, calm down! Erm, there is no need to become
agitated!"
"THERE IS EVERY REASON TO BE AGITATED ZEEDLEUR!! THERE IS NO WAY HE WILL
WRITE THE PLAY!!! IT'S TOO ...RISKY!!!"
"There is nothing to worry about! You have Satine now! You are to be
married, and in any case, you can bring her with you and show him how you
have won once and for all! Besides, he is just a stupid boy, no? All he
will do for us is write the play. He is a famous author back in England,
you know. Plus, it is too late to look for someone else now."
The Duke began to calm back down, sitting slowly in the chair, his hands
grasping the sides of it so hard that his knuckles were white. He said
"Fine. Have it your way. But if I see even one thing suspicious between
the boy and Satine, ONE THING ZEEDLEUR! Then Warner will be using his
guns and it won't be pretty. Understand?" The whole time he said that,
his head bobbed and his mustache kind of twitched. Harold thought he
looked like a Suisse.
"I...understand completely." Harold answered, quite afraid now.
"Good. Now get out."
"Right away dear Duke."
The Duke just waved him off with a swoosh of his hand, and Harold got up
hastily and left the room, getting an evil death look from Warner just
before the door of the room closed behind him. Once in the hall, he
realized that he had better get to the washroom quickly.
"Zut!"
He had peed his pants.
~finis
So....whatcha think? As always, review review review! Now, I'm aiming to
get over 100 reviews at the end of this story, and reviews make me write
faster, so.....REVIEW! Come on?! What are you waiting for? Go press the
little blue button, OH! But before you do, here are the translations:
Cachette: hiding place
"Monsieur Duke, comment faites-tu ce beau jour?: Duke, how are you doing
this fine day?
Suisse: Chipmunk
Zut: drat
Well, that's it for this chap, pretty long I think. Also, if you have any
questions or comments that you want to email me about, feel free to do
so. My email is on my profile.
-lee tea
Chapter 8: Oh the places you'll go!
The velvet curtains open up onto the computer screen, leaving the audience in hushed silence and anticipation. Let the show begin.
Christian sat in the lofty train compartment. The seats were comfortable, the food was good, he was wearing his comfortable clothes, and it was a nice day. Harold had been true to his word, and had arranged tickets to France for Christian, Netti and Butler. Netti was in the washroom...trains didn't move her so well. He suspected that she would be staying in there for the rest of the trip. Butler was...well he didn't actually know where Butler was, probably pestering somebody for more of the little scones. He couldn't blame him really; the scones were actually quite good. Even with all of the positive things around him, he still couldn't get into a good mood. He couldn't help but feel that something was going to go wrong. When he saw her, what would he say? What would he do? What would the duke do? He didn't truly believe that Harold knew what he was doing. What was he going to do; just get there, sweep Satine off her feet and say
"Great to see yah hun! Let's go!"
But he was going to Satine. Satine. Satine... he kept repeating that word in his head; he couldn't believe it was actually happening! Jealousy had taken her away from him, and fate had given them another chance. Soon they would be reunited again. Soon, soon! Very soon indeed! For the first time yet this trip, Christian smiled. The scenery really was very pretty. He wondered if Butler had gotten any more of those scones; he was starting to get hungry.
* * *
Harold sat nervously in the office. He had gone 2 days earlier than
Christian and his escorts, as to prepare for the Duke. This place was
their usual meeting spot. A dingy little building just outside of
Montmarte. It had been renovated slightly on the inside in all of the
rooms, but this room was done up so well...it was like a palace! Harold did
not know why the duke spent so much time on this little cachette, this
little hiding place. It's not like they spent a lot of time here anyway,
but who knew how many clients the duke had, all meeting in this large
room, filled with jewels and gold. Extravagance and wealth, power and
supremacy oozed from every corner of the room. Harold on his every visit
was tempted to take a few jewels. Just a few would probably pay his
debts. But every time his eyes wandered over to the pot of rubies on the
table next to him, he remembered that the walls have ears and everything
else has eyes. The duke would find out somehow, he knew that. Just then,
the duke walked in, followed by his ever present manservant Warner who
loomed over them both like a statue.
"Bonjour Monsieur Duke! Comment faites-tu ce beau jour?" He said.
"Cut the formalities Zidler, I'm fine. Let's get this over with, shall
we?" he asked, although it was a rhetorical question. His voice was as
nasally as ever, so much so that he pronounced Harold's name as Zeedleur.
"Yes, yes, well that's good." Harold answered back. "I have some
important news to tell you about, our writer is on the way here as we
speak!" The dukes head picked up, his enthusiasm restored. He wouldn't
mind having another source of income, and the sooner this writer got
here, the sooner they could start the Moulin rouge back up again. Harold
continued.
"Yes, well i'm afraid that you already know him, his name is Christian
James and-"
"WHAT?!?!?!?!" The duke roared. "YOU IMBECILE! ARE YOU SOME KIND OF
IDIOT, BRINGING THE BOY BACK HERE?!?!?!"
"Please, Monsieur Duke, calm down! Erm, there is no need to become
agitated!"
"THERE IS EVERY REASON TO BE AGITATED ZEEDLEUR!! THERE IS NO WAY HE WILL
WRITE THE PLAY!!! IT'S TOO ...RISKY!!!"
"There is nothing to worry about! You have Satine now! You are to be
married, and in any case, you can bring her with you and show him how you
have won once and for all! Besides, he is just a stupid boy, no? All he
will do for us is write the play. He is a famous author back in England,
you know. Plus, it is too late to look for someone else now."
The Duke began to calm back down, sitting slowly in the chair, his hands
grasping the sides of it so hard that his knuckles were white. He said
"Fine. Have it your way. But if I see even one thing suspicious between
the boy and Satine, ONE THING ZEEDLEUR! Then Warner will be using his
guns and it won't be pretty. Understand?" The whole time he said that,
his head bobbed and his mustache kind of twitched. Harold thought he
looked like a Suisse.
"I...understand completely." Harold answered, quite afraid now.
"Good. Now get out."
"Right away dear Duke."
The Duke just waved him off with a swoosh of his hand, and Harold got up
hastily and left the room, getting an evil death look from Warner just
before the door of the room closed behind him. Once in the hall, he
realized that he had better get to the washroom quickly.
"Zut!"
He had peed his pants.
~finis
So....whatcha think? As always, review review review! Now, I'm aiming to
get over 100 reviews at the end of this story, and reviews make me write
faster, so.....REVIEW! Come on?! What are you waiting for? Go press the
little blue button, OH! But before you do, here are the translations:
Cachette: hiding place
"Monsieur Duke, comment faites-tu ce beau jour?: Duke, how are you doing
this fine day?
Suisse: Chipmunk
Zut: drat
Well, that's it for this chap, pretty long I think. Also, if you have any
questions or comments that you want to email me about, feel free to do
so. My email is on my profile.
-lee tea