Chapter Eleven: What Saves the Day?
Disclaimer: This is going to be a long one: Don't own any songs mentioned in this chappie, or Disney. Haha, gotcha!
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Recap:
Murmurs of confusion flickered throughout the crowd, and Angela massaged her temples and called wearily, "SCRUFF MAIDS?"
Scruff Maids? Nasuada thought, puzzled, what are Scruff Maids?
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
At a glance Nasuada's question was answered for her.
The flowed out of Angela's tent in a flurry of rags, fluffy little bits of cloth assembled together in a sort of pom-pom shape. Bits of scruff. Some were larger than others, had more rags attached to them than the pom-pom shaped Scruff Maids. They were all a bright white, like a new-born lamb after it's cleaning, and had voices, too. That was the unnerving part. Little girlish giggles, trilling young boy voices, laughter seemed to be their speech.
Six of the pom-pom shaped Scruff Maids were carrying an enormous wash basin, and six more were carrying another. They didn't seem to be touching the basins...just...floating beside it. The basin seemed to be floating, too. Several more of the Varden made the sign against evil, and Angela rolled her eyes.
She said, "These, my dearhearts, are Scruff Maids. They are completely harmless cleaning tools that I developed a while back when I was trying to figure out how to clean something without really cleaning it."
"Wouldn't that be cheating?" Roran interrupted.
"CHEATING? On the contrary, I call it...improvisation?" Angela suggested, and Roran scratched his head.
"Well, Scruff Maids clean whatever you need to clean, absorbing the dirt, grime, and nastiness into their skin." Nasuada wrinkled her nose in distaste, and Angela continued, "All you do is give the Scruff Maids themselves a bath, and all the dirt, grime, and other unmentionables, will wash away."
"Doesn't that defeat the purpose?" Roran objected.
"Eh?"
"I mean, you're all clean, right? And THEN you have to give something dirty a bath and you get dirty all over again, right?"
"Well," Angela said, rather flustered, "No, you don't get dirty unless you bathe with the scruff maids that you're washing."
Roran frowned, and said, "Yeah, but you still get dir—"
"—SHUT UP, RORAN!" shouted the entire Varden.
Roran winced and muttered, "Touchy, touchy, geez, don't put your beer in the wrong hole..."
Angela said, "As I was saying—"
"—Shut up?" Roran offered.
"—SHUT UP RORAN! Anyways, all you—" Angela paused, "PEOPLE—need to do is gather three large tubs, filled to the brim with hot and soapy water—"
"—AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! SOAP! AH! KEEP—THAT—AWAY—FROM—ME! NOOOOO! " Roran screamed, running in circles and frothing at the mouth.
Eragon, from his state of supposed of unconscious, woke up to hear Roran's shouts and yelled, "DANGIT RORAN! SHUT UP! YOU WILL NOT BE SUCKED DOWN THE DRAIN AND SOAP IS NOT AN EVIL POISONOUS SUBSTANCE, DANGIT!"
Roran stopped running in circles and frothing at the mouth to look up in surprise and said, "They WILL TOO—"
"—WON'T—" yelled Eragon.
"—WILL—"
"—WON'T—"
"—WILL—"
"—WON'T—"
"—I WILL KILL YOU IF YOU DON'T SHUDDAP!" Angela shouted, and glared at the two cousins.
Eragon flopped limply on his side to face Roran, and said, "No more shouting, okay Roran? You woke me up from my state of supposed unconsciousness."
"Sorry, cous'," Roran apologized sheepishly, then frowned again, saying, "About that unconsciousness..." but Eragon had already passed out, mumbling, "Roran, your marshmallow's on fire."
Roran glanced around in alarm, and shouted, "DANGIT! I THOUGHT I PUT THAT THING OUT!"
Angela huffed, and directed a group of Urgals to where they were going to put the basins of foaming, steaming water. The scruff maids giggled and whispered in excitement, slightly sounding like a cloth rubbing at a window pane.
Roran was still jumping around the camp, hollering about fiery marshmallows and the sort.
Angela rolled her eyes, and shot a glance towards the scruff maids, who went to the three travelers in a flurry of mops, rags and giggles. The ones carrying Orik unceremoniously dropped him into the tub, drawing paisley colored curtains around the unusually large basin.
The scruff maids carrying Arya carefully floated her to her own, lavender scented basin before lowering her gingerly in the tub. Arya's eyes flickered once, and she sighed, murmering, "Mommy, Arya want a purple pony..." before falling back to sleep, a smile on her lips. The scruff maids, whispering and giggling, closed the rainbow-decked-out privacy curtains.
Eragon was last to be hauled into his basin, which was fifty feet long and had at least ten feet of frothy bubbles covering the surface. The stench emanating from Eragon himself was incredible, and certain members of the Varden could pick out different scents wafting off him in waves, as if he was an ocean of stink: Urgals smelled rotting farmland and hot tallow vats, dwarves smelled the entire pile of Farthen Dur dung collecting on one man, a woman with her baby girl smelled an entire years' worth of diapers and a city rat smelled all aforementioned, plus a sewer.
In any case, that boy needed some DEODERANT!
Eragon's head lolled, and he smiled faintly, murmering, "Roran, am I in heaven?...No, no, in heaven they have golden toilet seats..."
The scruff maids giggled and with a HEAVE! And HO! And HEAVE! And HO!...they threw Eragon into the tub, and a giant downpour of water of water slopped out.
A shriek was heard as the scruff maids pulled Eragon's own tie-dyed curtains around the basin, and Eragon yelled, "WAIT! WHERE'S MISTER DUCKY! AHH—WAIT NO, THERE YOU ARE...SILLY DUCK..."
Angela, and several other more mature members of the Varden rolled their eyes so hard, they almost rolled them out of their heads. Angela sighed, and tapped her foot impatiently. Arya and Orik were carried out shortly, wrapped head to toe cocoon-style in large and fluffy Turkish bathrobes.
Although, how Alegaesians managed to get hold of Turkish towels is still being questioned.
Angela exhaled, and took her new charges to a nurse station, where they lay on a cot, awaiting treatment.
And so the wait began...
Angela yawed...
Nasuada sneezed...
The dwarves played dice and lost a small fortune...
The Urgals practiced throwing their knives at a sack dummy that suspiciously looked like Galbatorix...
One hour went by...
Angela yawned...
Nasuada sneezed...
The dwarves played dice and lost a small fortune...
The Urgals practiced throwing their knives at a sack dummy that suspiciously looked like Galbatorix...
Two hours went by...
Angela yawned...
Nasuada sneezed...
The dwarves played dice and lost a small fortune...
The Urgals practiced throwing their knives at a sack dummy that suspiciously looked like Galbatorix...
And, the author got so tired of Déjà vu that she almost ran away in a hippie bus to Kansas...
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"WAHOOOO! WE'RE GOING TO KANSAS!" the authoress shouted, and the sister gave her a, 'you've got to be joking me', look. The authoress and the sister were in a very beat up, very antique, rather rusty 1970 VW that was crammed with travel supplies, fishing nets, and jars of pickle seeds, peanut butter & jelly, and bread.
The authoress honked the horn nine times and gave a loud WHOOP! as a semi truck passed by. The truck driver slowed, and a man with five o'clock shadow, a trucker's cap, and a beer belly leaned out the window, somehow managing to keep his eyes on the road and holder at the same time, "HEY, LITTLE MISSY! AIN'T YOU A LIL' YOUNG TO BE DRIVIN' THAT CAR?"
The authoress grinned and yelled back, (although she fully knew that she was way under the legal driving age), "NO! AIN'T YOU A LIL' OLD TO BE DRIVIN' A SEMI?"
The truck driver grinned and said, "NONE OF YOUR SASS, MISS, ELSE I PICK UP THIS HANDY DANDY PHONE AND CALL THEM MOUNTIES!"
The authoress frowned at the sister, veering, (and almost causing another car to be knocked off the road), and then steered back so that she could talk over the wind, "MOUNTIES?"
"YEAH!" the truck driver said, and started singing, "OH CANADA..." then paused, and looked back at the authoress to find her looking at him as if saying, 'Go on! It doesn't matter if you didn't make the Venetian Boy's choir, you can still sing a national anthem!'
An uncomfortable silence ensued, then the authoress said, "WELL? AREN'T YA GONNA FINISH THE SONG?"
The truck driver scratched his chin unconsciously and said, "YA SEE, I DON' KNOW ANY MORE THAN THAT..."
"OF COURSE! WHO DOES?" said the authoress, grinning, then said something to the little sister, who got out of her seat and started rifling through the mass amounts of crud that littered the back of the VW. The authoress grabbed the object that she had requested from the sister, and put it in her lap.
The truck driver frowned heavily, scratching his head and adjusting his cap. The sister noticed, and leeringly, she called to the truck driver, "DON'T THINK TOO MUCH, YA MIGHT HURT YOUR BRAIN!"
The truck driver, looking mightily alarmed, called back, "I'LL TRY NOT TO, LIL' MISS!"
The authoress finally managed to unscrew the top off the jar that was in her lap, and opened it. The truck driver leaned closer to the window, curious, and the authoress grabbed one of the tiny objects inside.
Holding it out for the truck driver to see, the authoress grinned charmingly and said, "PICKLE SEED?"
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Finally, Eragon was carried from the tub, giggling and yelling, "I'M SO PRETTY! OH SO PRETTY! I'M SO PRETTY AND CLEAN!"
Nasuada and Angela bustled toward the temporary hospital that was Angela's tent, and started chatting nonchalantly about the weather and other unrelated topics.
"MURTAGH!" a voice shouted, coming from within the tent. Angela and Nasuada rushed in to find Eragon thrashing around in the bedsheets, twisting the covers underneath him.
"MURTAGH, DANGIT, GIT YOUR TAIL OVER HERE, YOU COWARDLY SCUM!" Eragon shouted again, and Nasuada giggled, stopping when Angela gave her a warning glance.
"MURTAGH!" Eragon said, a distracted mutter coming from the distorted ball of knots that were the bedsheets. Eragon finally stopped moving about and shot straight up in bed and bellowed.
"MURTAGH, STOP FEEDING SAPHIRA CUPCAKES! IT'S GIVING HER INDIGESTION!"
There was a pause...
Then an explosion of laughing from all sides of the Varden camp, Saphira roaring her mirth along with the rest.
But, what Eragon said next quite unsettled them all:
"GET THE EGG! IT'S SUSPENDED IN THE BLUE TOOTHPASTE!"
Angela and Nasuada froze, eyes wide. Angela frowned, remembering something that Solembum had told her. Eragon always had weird, cryptic dreams that foretold the future—visions that were unexplained by all who he asked for information. Could this be one of those visions? Nah, Angela thought, mentally dismissing the idea as she changed the sheets on Eragon's bed, He's most likely hungry for some over-easy elf eggs and forgot to brush his teeth.
Nasuada resumed her once over of the temporary hospital, reassured that if Angela wasn't worried, neither should she be. There were three beds set against the back of the large bazaar like tent, which had three openings, or 'tentways', for people to traffic in and out. The flaps of the tent were rolled tightly and secured with a firm trucker's knot off to the side so that the travelers/victims could wake up to fresh air.
The sides of the tent, and the spaces in between the beds were crammed with bookcases, which in turn were stocked with various bottles corking potions and tattered books piled pell-mell in no absolute order. Angela seemed to be fairly comfortable in the hospital, as it was her tent originally and constructed later because the main infirmary was full.
Nasuada sighed, looked at the sky and said, distractedly, "When will they be up and about? I need them healed as soon as possible."
Angela's eyes twinkled, and she winked, replying, "Actually, Nasuada, I was just going to wake them now."
Nasuada looked confused for a bit, then Angela sighed, "Just give me a couple minutes or so, and they'll all be up and at 'em in no time!" and left the tent.
Nasuada looked around, looked back at the tent, then looked round again. With a final head movement, Nasuada shouted, "DANGIT, ANGELA! I'M NOT SOME SORT OF BABY-SITTER!"
Angela hurried back, with pot holders encasing her hands and a steaming, covered pot balanced on one knee, and said, "Well, dearie, they really aren't babies, you know—"
"THANK YOU—" Nasuada shouted, exasperated.
"—they're in fact—"
"—CAPTAIN—" Nasuada roared, clamping her hands over her ears.
"—one Rider, and elf, and a dwarf—"
"—OBVIOUS!" Nasuada finished, glaring at the witch, who was stirring the pot feverishly, sweat breaking out on her furrowed brow. Nasuada frowned, and walked behind Angela, taking slow steady steps as if not to alarm her, and said, "Hey Angela, whatcha cooking?"
Angela huffed, and pulled the pot away out of Nasuada's view, as if she were an artist and didn't want people peeking at the unfinished work before it was ready for the public eye. "Fine then, Mrs. Grumpi-Pants!" Nasuada harrumphed, and sat down on an over turned bucket smartly.
Angela shot her a glare, and continued stirring.
Nasuada tapped her foot.
Angela stirred.
Nasuada yawned.
Angela mopped the sweat breaking out on her brow, then continued stirring.
Nasuada checked her wrist, looking for a watch and finding none.
Angela stirred...
And stirred...
And stirred...
Then, finally...
"ANGELA, DANGIT! WILL YOU QUIT FUTZING AROUND WITH THE POT AND START BEING PRODUCTIVE HERE!" Nasuada gestured angrily around at the surrounding camp, "WE KINDA HAVE A WAR HERE, AND WE DON'T NEED TIME WASTERS COOKING—" here Nasuada paused, then leapt up to quickly examine what was in the pot.
Nasuada never finished her sentence.
Angela gave Nasuada an evil grin, watching as the ruler of the Varden yelped as if been burned, and took up a perch on top of one of the bookshelves, chest heaving and face white. Nasuada made the sign to ward off evil, and said shakily, "You—you keep that THING—AWAY from me—ya hear?"
Angela chuckled, and took the cover off the steaming pot.
Inside, was the:
Most horrid—
Most disgusting—
Most feared by every child who calls themselves a kid—
Most revolting—
Smelly—
Raw—
VEGETABLE; in the entire universe. This vegetable was so frightening, that parents who tucked their kids into bed wouldn't tell their kids about the Boogie Man and monsters under the bed and shadows in the closet—oh, no—the parents would tell their kids about this evil fiend instead.
This VEGETABLE could cause nuclear wars for picky eaters everywhere.
This VEGETABLE could never die.
(DIE, DANGIT, DIE!)
This VEGETABLE that stewed in Angela's cooking pot—
Was—
An—
Enormous—
BRUSSEL SPROUT.
Nasuada screamed, and even Angela flinched slightly, then tossed something unseen to Nasuada at Nasuada, so Nasuada was hit in the forehead with it.
"OW! DANGIT, ANGELA—" Nasuada started, eyes watering.
"—you see, Nasuada, I am wearing a pair of—" here Angela mouthed the words: invisible nose plugs, "—so that the smell does not bother me."
Nasuada looked confused, and started, "Why can't you say the words—"
"—SHUDDAP NASUADA! IT MIGHT HEAR YOU!" Angela shouted, clearly alarmed. Nasuada shut her trap with a snap!, and fumbled for the invisible nose plugs that Angela had tossed her, shoving them up both nostrils frantically.
Angela looked at Nasuada, amazed, "Nasuada, are you picking your nose?"
"WHAT?" Nausada shouted, riled, "I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT!"
"It's okay, Nasuada, we all have our quirks," soothed Angela.
"BUT I DON'T PICK MY NOSE!" Nasuada screamed, then said more calmly, "I was just putting the—" here Nasuada mouthed the words invisible nose plugs, "—in."
Angela smiled benignly, and said, winking, "SURE you did Nasuada."
Nasuada glared, and Angela chuckled, saying, "It is time."
"Time?" Nasuada asked.
"TIME?" shouted the Mad Hatter from Alice and Wonderland.
"TIME?" shrieked the March Hare, gleefully.
"TIME?" piped the dormouse, and ran squeakily to and for, hiccupping all over the Varden camp, where it was chased by the Mad Hatter who was holding a giant sledge hammer, and the March Hare, who was pocketing a large watch.
"NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!" wailed the White Rabbit, and Angela said, "You know, dearie, repeating something won't make the point any clearer—"
"—NO, NO, NO, NO, NO! THAT WAS MY GRANDFATHER'S BEST WATCH!" sobbed the White Rabbit, stumbling blindly to the spot where the Mad Hatter had his sledge hammer raised above the said watch, with the March Hare nearby, holding the dormouse in clenched fingers.
"LOOK DINA!" squealed Alice, "IT'S THE WHITE RABBIT!"
"And a very merry Un-birthday to you too!" Angela muttered, distracted, then Nasuada suggested tentatively, "Time for what?"
"CLEAN CUP, CLEAN CUP! MOVE DOWN!" bawled the Mad Hatter, who was swinging Alice by her ankles around and around.
"YES! THANK YOU DISNEY, NOW SHUDDAP!" barked Nasuada, who was faintly steaming around the ears, and thought, Really though, time for what?
Angela and Nasuada went over to Orik's bed, giggling slightly like little girls about to attempt their first sleepover prank, and uncovered the pot-coverer, and held the pot up to Orik's face.
Orik snored on, seemingly in a deep slumber.
Nasuada and Angela exchanged worried glances, then held the pot closer so that the pungent stench of brussel sprouts wafted right up Orik's left nostril. Orik's nose twitched, then gave an audible SNIFF! Orik snorted, and coughed up a luggie, closed eyes streaming. Orik opened one watering eyelid, gave a look at the pot of brussel sprouts, and his eyes widened. Orik leapt up, screaming an ancient war cry and grabbing his sword slashing at invisible behemoths.
Nasuada collapsed into laughter, chortling at the ridiculous expression on Orik's face. Orik looked around, and seeing no great fiends, sheathed his sword and bellowed, "GADZOOKS! WHAT WAS THAT?"
Nasuada, still giggling, said, "Brussel sprouts."
Orik's left eye twitched, and he muttered uneasily, backing slightly away from the open pot, "Hmph, keep those things away from me!"
Nasuada nodded, "Glad you and I see eye to eye."
Orik wrinkled his brow, confused, "WAIT A MINUTE! You're a foot and a half taller than me!"
Nasuada rolled her eyes, walking with Angela over to Arya's bedside, "Jeesh, Orik; it's just an expression."
Orik blanched, "EXPRESSION! You mean like hugs and crying and sweaters and goo-goo stuff and TALKING ABOUT YOUR FEELINGS?" Orik shuddered.
Nasuada said irritably, "No, you twit, now SHUDDAP!" and directed the smell of brussel sprouts towards Arya.
Arya's reaction happened a little sooner than Orik's: she jumped on top of the bed and screamed, "AHHH! BRUSSEL SPROUTS!" Arya then grabbed her bow and strung it, aiming it at the pot and muttered darkly, "Prepare...to be...ANNIHILATED!"
"ARYA, STOP!" Nasuada managed to shout weakly, as she had started hiccupping. "We need the brussel sprouts for Eragon."
Arya grinned an evil grin, and even Orik had a matching sneaky smirk of his own as the four crept lightly over to Eragon's bedside, where he was muttering something about, 'don't cover the toast with bees-wax, you dumb nut! Cover the toast with BUTTER, DANGIT!'
"One..." Arya said, taking a position at the right of Eragon's bed.
"Two..." Orik chimed in, choosing to watch at the foot of Eragon's bed.
"Three..." Angela whispered, bringing the pot closer under Eragon's nose.
"Schfifty-five..." mouthed Nasuada excitedly.
It didn't even take a nano-second for Eragon to realize what foul vegetable was being pushed under his nose. He was wide awake the moment the rank waft of brussel sprouts reached his nose. Eragon shouted, "AYYYYY-EEEEEEEEEEEEEE! SAPHIRA! LOCKDOWN DRILL NUMBER FORTY-TWO!" and fell out of bed in a tangle of tie-dyed sheets.
I'm on it, boomed a voice surprisingly nearby. Angela, Arya, Nasuada, and Orik all turned around and merely watched with half-shock, half-hysterics, (brussel sprouts can be a laughing matter when you are not their target), as Saphira neatly hooked the pot handle with her claw. Tipping it upside-down, Saphira watched suspiciously as the brussel sprouts plopped into the dirt, then, with a loud, RAWR! Saphira burnt those wicked, long-smelling vegetables to a crisp—then ashes.
There was a silence, then a nervous chuckle, followed by a chortle, followed by a guffaw, followed by insane laughter that ricocheted off the trees and tents in the Varden camp. The laughter was cut off when a muffled voice yelled, "DANGIT! GET THESE SHEETS OFF—OF—ME—DANGIT!" Orik rushed over to help Eragon out of the twist of brightly dyed cotton, and clapped him on the back, saying, "So, Eragon, how do ya feel?"
Eragon glared, and it was such a funny attempt at an evil death look that Angela, Arya and Nasuada burst into helpless giggles.
Orik made a noise in the back of his throat that sounded like an incredulous chuckle, but covered it up by a cough, and grinned at Eragon.
"Evil no-good fiends...must DIE...mutant vegetables..." Eragon muttered, and walked off to visit Saphira as the traveling trio went their separate ways. Nasuada sighed, and leaned back against a post holding up the tent, and frowned, commenting to Angela—who was bustling around her tent trying to make it less crowded—"No, seriously, what exactly is it time for?"
"TEA TIME!" crowed Angela, laughing at the shocked expression on Nasuada's face, and asked, "Jasmine or Chamomile?"
Nasuada huffed, and stalked off to her tent.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Later...
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"HEY ARYA!" A cheerful voice called, and Arya turned around, grinning slightly.
"Hello, Eragon. How was your recovery?" Arya inquired cordially.
"Scary," Eragon said, remembering the furious scruff maids, (they were rather mad near the end of his cleaning, squeaking, "I'm never cleaning this much filth in my life again!"), and the evil pile of cooked brussel sprouts.
"Mine too," Arya said, also remembering the scent of the devilish vegetables.
"Hey Arya," Eragon said again, and started bouncing up and down in a state of excitement.
"Yes?"
"Guess what I is?"
"Err..." Arya broke off, thinking, Where is he going with this bad grammer?
Suddenly, Eragon broke into song, a melodious number with a spirited rhythm.
"I got soul, but I'm not a soldier. I got soul, but I'm not a soldier—" Eragon sang, but was broken off by Arya.
"Eragon, that doesn't make any sense. Of COURSE you have a soul, AND you're a soldier."
"REALLY?" Eragon said, amazed, "Prove it."
Arya ticked off things on her fingers, "Well, let's see...you have a sword—"
"—used to, you mean—"
"WHATEVER!" Arya continued, "And, you have a full suit of armor, AND you fought in the most recent battle on the Burning Plains—"
"—which still have a drainage problem—" Eragon noted.
"—which was ENTIRELY your fault," Arya pointed out.
"WHATEVER!" came the pouting reply.
"And, if you need any more proof, you dodge arrows with the speed of a fully trained elf, and you duck under axe swings—"
"—GET LOW! Get low, get low, get low—" Eragon interrupted cheerfully.
"—Eragon, please just—"
"—STOP! Collaborate and LISTEN! Ice is back with a brand new invention!" Eragon rapped, then looked at Arya, who was tapping her foot, and raising her eyebrow, so he continued, "Something grabs a hold of me tightly—"
"—That wouldn't be Fuzzy Thing, now would it?—" Arya said, referring to Eragon's favorite childhood stuffed animal, (which happened to be a VERY fuzzy, VERY worn, RATHER cute, DRAGON.)
Eragon glared, and rapped again, "—flow like a hawk through daily and nightly—"
"—WILL IT EVER STOP!—" Arya said, wincing at Eragon's bad rapping skills.
"—Yo! I don't know! Turn off the lights—"
"—and you'll ask for a nightlight—" Arya muttered, and Eragon stopped.
"Hey, you don't like the cold and dark either!" Eragon retorted, then was lit with sudden inspiration and he sang, "It's a DANG COLD NIGHT!—"
"Eragon, have you taken something strange?" Arya said, suspicious now.
"LUCY IN THE SKY WITH DIAMONDS!" Eragon shouted at the top of his lungs, drawing funny stares from various onlookers.
"Well, maybe not THAT potent—"Arya started, worried.
"—I like BEER! It makes me a jolly good fellow, oh I like BEER! It helps me unwind, and sometimes it makes me feel mellow!" Eragon sang, and the Varden chorused, "Makes him feel ME-EH-EHLLO!"
"I think Orik's the only one who really...um...appreciates beer that much..." Arya said.
"We are all on drugs, YEAH! Give me some of that stuff, WOO!" Eragon sang again, in a totally different voice from before.
"Maybe," Arya said, looking at Orik who was tenderly holding a bottle of Jack Daniels' in his arms, and said, "And maybe you should take singing less—"
"—Is this more than you bargained for and, I'VE been DYING to tell you anything you want to hear—"
"—Give me a SIGN, PLEASE!—THAT HE WILL SHUT-UP!" Arya mock-begged, slightly annoyed and slightly amused.
"—Sign, Sign! Everywhere a sign—" Eragon sang, so full of himself that he actually started skipping a circle around Arya.
"—Eragon, you—"
"—ain' nuthin' but a HOUND DOG!—" Eragon howled, wagging his tail like a puppy, and shaking his pelvis, (like Elvis! ).
Arya winced again, averting her eyes from Eragon's pathetic attempt at a hip "shake". It looked quite ridiculous, and to top it off, his pants were starting to fall down. Arya made a face and said, "Eragon, PULL YOUR NASTY DRAWERS UP, DANGIT! YOU'RE A RIDER FOR GOODNESS SAKE!"
Eragon blushed and hitched his pants up higher, singing in a deep voice, "Low Ri-dur, get a little higher!"
"Please, please, I'm too OLD for this!" Arya begged, and winked at Angela, who was standing by.
Eragon did a back flip and sang, "—Golden years!—"
Arya moaned and covered her face, smiling in between fingers, "Eragon, I swear, I'll ask Angela to put frogs in your bed—"
With this, Eragon belted out, "—JEREMIAH WAS A BULLFROG!—"
And the Varden sang, "Duh, na, na!"
"—WAS A GOOD FRIEND OF MINE!" Eragon bellowed, and Arya started cracking up, her stony demeanor melting along with the music.
The Varden sang, "Duh, na, na!"
"—NEVER UNDERSTOOD A SINGLE WORD HE SAID, BUT I HELPED HIM DRINK HIS WINE!—" Eragon shouted, and the Varden, including Arya and got in a circle and started doing a sort of version of can-can dancing in a circle around Orik, who was shaking out the last drops of Jack Daniel's onto the ground.
Orik mumbled absently, "And boy, that was a mighty find wine..."
All the people dancing sang, and the circle grew with voices and laughter:
"JOY TO THE WORLD!
ALL THE BOYS AND GIRLS!
JOY TO THE FISHES IN THE DEEP BLUE SEE—
--OH—
--JOY TO YOU AND ME!"
The great circle of dancers dissipated as the high foot kicking Varden collapsed into helpless hilarity.
Arya and Eragon fell on the ground, then both tried to get back up again, and failed to do so. Laughing hysterically, they managed to clasp their arms around the other's shoulders and stumble to their feet over to Angela.
Arya wiped tears from her eyes. Angela walked over to Eragon and wordlessly handed him a dead frog. Eragon laughed, and took off, chasing Roran with the frog and screaming, "FROG COOTIES! FROG COOTIES! FROG COOTIES! FROG COOTIES!"
Roran, who was fleeing for his life, was shouting just as loud, "EW! EW! EW! GERMS! INFECTION! DISEASE! GET THAT THING AWAY FROM ME! EW! EW! EW!"
Arya laughed and smiled at Angela, who was grinning in a benign sort of way, watching the two cousins.
"So, Arya," Angela said casually.
"Yes?" Arya said, still watching Eragon and Roran, along with the rest of the Varden, who were grumpily picking themselves up and getting ready for night watches.
"How'd you and Eragon get to be so close?" Angela said curiously, eagerly awaiting Arya's reaction.
Arya laughed again, and then did something unexpected. She grabbed one of the dead frogs hanging on a string from Angela's belt, and started chasing after Eragon, yelling, "I'VE GOT YOU NOW!"
Eragon and Roran did a double take, then ran for their lives—screaming like sissies.
Turning back, still chasing Eragon, she called to Angela, "I guess that's the confusion of a rock."
The trio, shrieking and screaming, ran off into the sunset; and Angela chuckled and went back to her tent, with Solembum purring alongside her.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And so all things come to a close: all things chaotic...
Delirious...
Hopelessly insane...
And made of pickle seeds...
And...
The Confusion of a Rock...
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE END
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------