Author's Note: So long and thanks for all the fish. Lyrics by Tim, I don't think there are any other copyright infringements in this chapter.
Pip looked up at the moon and checked his watch. He had found one-hundred-fourteen men fanatically loyal to him and stupid enough to be fanatically loyal to him to replace those that had been stabbed, blown up, shot, or eaten. He had found a tomb large enough to hide his captive in. He had even perfected a laugh that was adequately evil. All he lacked was a stalwart group of heroes to thwart him and some coherent idea as to why he was acting so evil in the first place. The words Estella, funky, Abel (or was it Cain?), retribution, tintinnabulation, and plot device came to mind, but none of it made any sense. So he stopped looking at his watch and decided to flaunt his victory to Juliet.
"How are you feeling? The moon is beautiful tonight, isn't it?"
Juliet frowned. "Oh, speak not of the moon, the inconstant moon, that monthly changes in her circled orb! That pale, envious temptress, speak not her name!"
"Moon. Moon. Moon. Moonmoonmoonmoonmoonmoonmoonmoonmoonmoonmoonmoonmoon. Moon."
That paragraph triggered something deep within Juliet. A hatred programmed into the very brains of all Capulets, a hatred that, until now, only Tybalt could tap. Ripping herself free of her bonds, she kicked Pip's top hat off his head, smashed Royal Sentinel of Fair Verona #90 into the wall, head butted him in the gut, set him on fire with a nearby torch and ripped him limb from limb.
Pip dusted off his top hat, scampered out of the tomb, and found himself face to face with Pat. Pip blinked. Pat blinked. The two had a staring contest until Pip blinked again. Finally, Pip asked, "How did you get here?"
Pat replied, "Invisibility potions are easy to make… if you have memorized the Periodic Table of Elements!"
"Is that a fact?"
"No, actually, it isn't."
"I see. In that case, I'm going to have to shoot you," said Pip as he drew his gun. However, when he fired it, the bullet ricocheted off Pat's chest and into Royal Sentinel of Fair Verona #3's head. Pip was a bit stumped. "How did that happen?"
"Invisibility potions may be a thing of fantasy, but Kevlar vests are completely plausible outside our current situation and assuming one has the proper materials and pays attention in science class, after all."
"Are you quite done with your public service announcements?"
"No," Pat turned to the reader, "Mercutio says, Don't Drink and Fight. And Don't Do Drugs."
"How did you know that I—" Pip was interrupted by a flash of light and a crash of thunder. Royal Sentinel of Fair Verona #83 was fried in an instant, and Ramya was suddenly standing right next to Pip. She said, "Pip, release Juliet, or you will have another death on your conscience."
Pip had heard of a conscience, but he had never really been able to understand it. He did understand that he did not want to release Juliet under any circumstances, and he expressed this to Ramya and Pat.
Pat grinned an evil grin. "I see. In that case, we will take her by force, and I will be forced to blow stuff up. For the greater good, of course."
By some loophole in physics, the other members of Mr. Catagnus' seventh period English class and their friends heard this entire conversation. When they heard 'take her by force', there was a rousing cheer, and they set off to rescue Juliet. In the most excessively violent method possible. For the greater good.
Royal Sentinel of Fair Verona #300 found it quite ironic that not only was he the last Royal Sentinel numerically, but he was also the last soldier to have a monologue, much like this, and was the first to die in the coming epic battle between the 297 Sentinels and the good guys. Knowing his time was about up, #300 reflected on the meaning of life, the universe, and everything. His jaw dropped. "I've got it!" he cried, but before he could spread this life-altering revelation to the world, Taesup beat him unconscious with large bags of money and the epic conflict began.
Count Paris, possibly the only competent supporter of Pip, (largely considered to be an oxymoron) decided from the tomb marked as his that the only way to defeat the attackers would be to overwhelm them one by one. The first target would be Tim. Paris had a grudge against Tim ever since the party that had gotten him involved in this mess. His 'guns' would be no match for twenty soldiers.
Paris was largely mistaken. When Tim found himself cornered by the twenty soldiers, he merely played his piano.
Well, hey, Joe, don't you know,
That we're all gonna miss you so,
And it's hard not to cry;
When we think how you're such a wonderful guy…
Mr. Catagnus, is all I need,
Teach me Shakespeare, and poetry.
(Oooooahh, Oooooahh)
The beautiful melody made them think of their wasted, meaningless lives. Once all twenty were on the ground sobbing, Tim bashed their heads in with a tombstone he ripped from the ground.
Paris' next target was Chris, who, like Tim, was unarmed. Chris was having such a great time filming the action that he did not notice a particularly burly Royal Sentinel of Fair Verona #274 sneaking up behind him. From across the graveyard, Pat R. saw Chris' plight. In a rage, he beat a path to Chris using only his trusty wooden club, only to fall in a friar-sized hole. Pat R. disagreed with the situation.
Chris agreed upon the disagreeability of the situation. The situation was so disagreeable, that Royal Sentinel #274 had him in a headlock. This unpleasant situation was thankfully brought to an end by Odysseus, who turned #274 into a pincushion with his arrows.
Paris began to become worried. He didn't really know why, the minute he sided with Pip he knew hew was dead, but he was considering all possible options for his survival anyway. He blamed this paranoia on human desire to prevail and Slagtar von Tryon. Some strange villain-logic told him to go join his Royal Sentinel comrades on the battlefield. Paris modified his will, leaving the family fortune and ownership of Verona to Mercutio (he'd put all that money and power to good use, right?) and stepped from the safety of the tomb and into the chaos of the graveyard.
Things were worse than Paris had suspected. Julie was exploding the soldier's eardrums with supersonic screams; Pat was blowing people up, and Tybalt was on top of a mountain of corpses, laughing madly. Kyle's seven foot long sword had returned, only to get lodged in a two hundred year old statue of a saint. Dan was dancing, which came as no great surprise to Paris, or the reader, who probably expected at least one Dan dance scene per chapter at this point. Paris began to mimic Dan's dancing, and found it to be great fun. Taesup took this opportunity to beat Paris with moneybags.
The parallel universe that the students were trapped in was very much like Earth in the 1500s. As such, many of the guards were confused to see Stephanie, a girl, beat the living crap out of them. They just couldn't explain it. They would surround her, she would smile, do a small twitching motion, and they would have broken necks or become disemboweled. Very strange business, indeed.
Puzzled, the Royal Sentinels beseeched their fearless leader, Pip, who was hiding behind a tombstone. Royal Sentinel of Fair Verona #38 reported, "Sire, there are warriors on the enemy's side… who are women!" One of Jim's boomerangs swiped off his head.
Royal Sentinel #10 continued, "They possess incredible skill and we are afraid." A fire bubble, launched by Pat cremated him.
"You are afraid?" questioned Pip.
"Very afraid, actually," said Royal Sentinel #299 before he spontaneously exploded. "That's just not fair."
Pip, coming from a more civilized era, sneered, "Three hundred of you couldn't take a group of teenagers and you are complaining that they have girls?"
"Yes, sir. It just doesn't seem fair," said Royal Sentinel of Fair Verona #145. Shocked that he didn't suffer an immediate and painful death, he continued timidly, "Perhaps you could give us help… from the future?"
Pip considered this. While it was more beneficial to him to have the soldiers win, all this talk about the end of the universe made the whole ordeal seem rather pointless. "All right, I give unto you… the crossbow!"
The Royal Sentinels present blinked. Royal Sentinel #81 said, "Sir, the crossbow has been around for nearly five hundred years. Heck, the Chinese have had for three hundred years before Christ! I have one right here. See?" He fired a bolt at Dan, who danced out of the way. He fired again, but Dan did a pirouette and the bolt went right past him. #81 reloaded, but before he could fire again, Mercutio drunkenly sliced through him.
When Paris awoke, he saw the crossbow bolt go flying past Dan. Quickly, he took in his surroundings. Pip's forces were drawing back to Juliet's tomb to make their final stand. Romeo and company were preparing for one final attack. The rain began to fall, and Paris knew it was time for something drastic.
Romeo began to detail the final draft of his marvelous plan. "First, Julie will blast them with a good scream. Then Pat will launch one of Mr. Glodek's Fire Bubbles. Ramya, could you rain fiery holy death upon them? Good. Dan, Jim and Tim will create the best distraction ever. Then the people with pointy things—" "Swords, perhaps?" Tybalt suggested.
"Yes, the people with swords, myself, Mercutio, Tybalt, Kyle, Caitlin, Reece, and Dan R. will march forward. BUT! We will only be a distraction. Taesup, with his bags of money, and Stephanie, with her mad ninja skillz, will sneak in, free Juliet, and join the fight. In case we have to go into a court of law, Chris will provide photographical evidence and musical assistance should Tim, Jim and Dan need it."
"What about me?" asked Benvolio.
"I'm sorry, my cousin, but you suck. You go tell my parents that everything is okay."
Paris decided that this touching family moment should be brought to an end. "Stupid as your plan is, I cannot allow you to put it into effect. You all die, here and now."
"But Paris, I thought you didn't like resorting to violence," Tybalt said quietly.
"What you don't know about me or Shakespeare in general is enough to fill a twenty-three page novel, much like this one and I do apprehend thee for numerous felons committed here, not the least of which being murder and assault on police."
Tybalt really didn't want to fight Paris. It was Paris who taught him that conflict could be resolved in ways other than bloodshed. It was Paris who helped him brave the horrors of Plan Delta. And now it was Paris who stood between him and his cousin.
The onlookers watched in horror. Tybalt was able to get in five swift strokes before Paris hit the ground dead, but the first slice, the one that beheaded him, was the only one that was necessary.
The corpse landed in the mud with a dull thump. The only noise that could be heard was the sound of raindrops. An hour passed in this silence, but each second was like a cold, empty eternity.
Odysseus, having fought a war that lasted for ten years, could understand the trauma of those surrounding him. The arbitrary slaughter of hundreds of nameless, faceless guards was nothing compared to the violent death of one man who they had considered a friend. Morally correct or not, it was the way it was.
Finally, Odysseus said, "Let's go save Juliet."
Author's Note: No, this isn't the end. Well, it is, but the epilouge will be up sooner or later. That will be the end. Or the end after The End. I'm not sure.