Thank you for being so patient with this story. The truth is, I probably never would have kept writing it if it weren't for people wanting to read more. Thanks for the inspiration. Give yourselves a pat on the back. I hope this slashy chapter lives up to your expectations and more. And yes I know there aren't any Jack in the Boxes in the UK and yes I know you can't buy men's suits and capes at Forever 21.
PART 1
Descole and Jonathan peeked their heads out from behind a fake tree.
"Is the Pacific Coast clear?"
"We've lost them, master."
The bank robbery was a hair away from not being a success, but it was still a success. Those dumbass cops were no match to Jonathan's carriage driving skills. The money, minus a few spending pounds, waited inside the carriage parked in a mall lot. It was clothing shopping time.
"Look out for mall cops," Jonathan warned.
"Mall cops? Ha!" Descole snarked. "I may be a three year-old thirty year-old, but even I know that mall cops are only a myth!"
"But they ARE real, Master, and they will stop at absolutely nothing to fine you for doing absolutely nothing! They-"
Descole put his hand over the butler's beard and laughed flamboyantly sarcastically.
"HA HA HA! Come on, Jonathan, let's go to Forever 21."
He tried pulling Jonathan's arm but slipped and face-planted onto the floor.
"Someday I'll be stronger!"
(This is the part when you imagine a laugh track.)
Upon entering Forever 21, Descole and Jonathan were greeted with gasps and screams.
"Where are his clothes?!"
"Think of the children!"
"My eyes!"
Descole grunted. Mall people. Why do you think I'm in a fucking clothing store?
"Maybe we should find a new store," Jonathan suggested. "Perhaps a Forever 22?"
"NO! I will not let these SKANKS ruin our perfectly good shopping experience! Watch this."
With no time for this bullshit, Descole made his way to the cashier. Each step he took forward, the mall people would take a step back, as if naked was a disease you could catch.
"Move it, lady."
The woman working at the cash register threw her arms in the air as a sign of surrender and moved out of the way. Descole picked up the phone. His over-exaggerated nasally, bitchy, villainous voice boomed over the loud speaker. But remember friends, Jean Descole is not our story's villain.
"JONATHAN! Is this thing on?"
Jonathan gave a thumbs up. Descole did not know what that meant and looked at the ceiling.
"Okaaaaaaay, thanks for the waste of time, Jonathan! ANYWAY."
His voice serioused.
"Look at you people, with your daddy's credit cards and your bug boots and your stupid perfectly straight hair. Life must be so fucking easy for all of you."
Everybody nodded.
"Well guess what? Mine fucking isn't. I just came back from slaying a dinosaur, for Christ's sake."
"You did that for our Lord and savior?" one of the customers asked.
"Yes that's exactly why I did it. Did you know that Jesus was half naked all the time? We were all naked at one point, which means we all had to shop for clothes while still being naked. Underneath our clothes, we are all the same, except I think I'm the only shopper here with a penis. Stop gawking at my handsome physique and let me shop in peace. And if you don't like it..."
Descole jumped on top of the counter.
"Take a picture so it will to be last longer!"
A roar of applause carried out along the store. Jonathan wiped a tear from his eye and fist pumped a proud one.
The cashier said, "Put the phone down or I'm calling for the mall cops."
"NO SHIT OKAY I'M GOING!"
A sleek dark blue suit with white cuffs, a black tie and swanky pointed-toe shoes, the look of a powerful man. But powerful wasn't enough. With a new cape and mask and a weird fucked up kind of sombrero cowboy hat with puppy dog ears, he looked mysterious, but even mysterious wasn't enough. There had to be something tacky enough to kick off the rest of his ridiculous outfit. Something cozy, something fabulous, something
"Boa."
Descole fixed his white feathered boa in the mirror. He smiled back at the fancy man he saw before himself.
I hope the man with the eyes I so long for likes my boa!
"Master, are you almost done looking at yourself?"
"Oh, it's you." Descole spun around. "What do you think, Jonathan?"
"You look swingin'."
Descole made a disgusted face.
"Never say that again. Oops! I almost forgot!"
Descole stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out his baby cape, the one that helped him escape from that wretched nursery thirty years ago. Taking off his boa for JUST ONE SECOND, he wrapped his baby cape over his new one.
"This symbolizes a baby changing into a man."
I'm proud of you, master."
"Me too, Jonathan." Descole sniffed back his tears and went back to admiring himself in the mirror. "Say, why are there so many mirrors in this place anyway?"
"This is a library. They put up these mirrors so that it will look like they have more books."
"Ew. So where is this special friend of yours? I want my fucking castle, Jonathan."
"This way, master!"
During the carriage ride from the mall to the library, Jonathan told Descole of an old friend who could help them find a castle for cheap, which kind of made the whole bank robbery thing a bit pointless, but it was a good chapter, right? Whether this friend worked, visited or lived in the library, this was not specified, only that his name was Craig and that he had a "good connection."
"Jonathan, I don't know what that thing is, but it's definitely not a person."
They sat down in front of a weird looking television.
"This is the only way I know how to get in touch with Craig. All I have to do is touch the mouse and move it like this…"
"Why do they call it a mouse?" Descole asked, very interested in this new technology.
"That's the thing. Nobody knows why it's called that!"
"Hmm." Descole was very VERY interested. "Go on."
"Now I play with the alphabet piano here and…"
CLICK!
Descole squinted his eyes. "Craigs…list? Is this Craig's list of castles?"
"Master, look!"
Jonathan had already found something.
Castle for sale.
I just found out I'm not a vampire so I won't be needing this castle anymore. There's no address but it's in the woods somewhere.
"It looks like we've got a carriage adventure into the woods!"
"Yeah, about the 'we' part…"
Descole pulled out the wrinkled note that sexy baby eyes Hershel Layton had handed to him earlier that morning in front of the bank. He passed it to the butler. Descole had not yet informed Jonathan of his booty call until now.
"I'm going to need a ride to this exact location. You'll have to find my castle on your own and pick me up in the morning. Now please hurry. It's getting late and I'm getting laid."
Jonathan revved up the carriage
PART 2
There, in the brisk evening light, stood Descole, outside of his date's quaint London home. It was a small and well cared for building on a seemingly friendly street.
Descole noticed a lovely garden next door and quickly picked all the flowers and turned them into a bouquet. Then, fluffing up his boa like a bird would do as in its mating dance, he rang the doorbell…
…but it wasn't a doorbell. It was a puzzle.
"Fuck this, I don't have time for this shit," Descole said and jumped through the window.
Surprised, Hershel Layton dropped his cup of tea onto the floor.
"Uhh, your puzzle's broken," Descole said as he handed the bouquet to the other man. Layton fluttered his tiny little eyes. It was like watching fire flies twinkling in a giant eraser-shaped field.
God, if he does that again I'm going to explode!
"My apologies," spoke the eraser head, "but I did not recognize you with your clothes on, until I noticed your hot mask."
Descole shrugged.
"My name is Hershel, but you can call me Professor Layton."
Kinky.
"Thank you for inviting me to your home, Professor Layton."
"Oh no, call me Hershel! And your name?"
Suddenly the words 'I'll never forget your face' bitch slapped Descole in the memory. Did this also mean he would never forget Descole's name? Better be careful on this one.
"My name is uhh…Jean..Desco…lay, with an L-A-Y and the end, not an L-E."
"It is a pleasure meeting you, Jean Descolay."
"Ha ha. You said pleasure."
"Would you like something to eat?" Layton asked politely.
"Finally somebody asks to feed me! Is there a Josh in the Box around here?" Descole's stomach growled. It sounded like it was saying feeeeeed meeeee grshkrshkmmghsrkmgr.
"No, I mean," Layton grabbed Descole's face and shoved it into his crotch, "would you like something to eat?"
Sticking out of Layton's zipper were two reservation tickets to London's most fancy and expensive restaurant, "Food La~La."
"I'd rather go to Josh in the Box, but that's fine too I guess."
Layton released Descole's face from his crotch and shouted, "To the Laytonmobile!"
"What the fuck?"
Unfortunately for Descole, the Laytonmobile was not the decked-out futuristic SUV with jet pack wheels and a robot lady's voice asking you where you want to go or how your day was. No, it was just a shitty car with a roof high enough for Layton to drive around without having to take his top hat off. It didn't even have a tape player, but it was better than Jonathan's carriage. Instead, Descole had Layton beatbox while he rapped about smoking weed and the French revolution. ("Smoke that shit up while we blow your shit up. I roll my joints up in cash just like Marie Antoinette. Uhh something something something bitch find a hair net.")
The food at Food La~La was indeed exquisite, though it was no Josh in the Box. Having not eaten for thirty years, Descole ordered every dessert on the menu. Layton watched his date shove all of that food into his skinny little body, seductively eating his spaghetti and breadsticks whenever to two made eye contact. He tried to get Descole to share one strand of spaghetti with him, slowly getting closer to each other's lips until Descole got the tiniest amount of spaghetti sauce on his boa and freaked out. Layton turned this into a puzzle:
You have stained your favorite white feathered boa with spaghetti sauce. With you you also have a white fur boa, a white faux fur boa, and a black feathered boa. Which boa should you wear if you want to look as equally fabulous as you do with your white feathered boa?
It was a trick question. Just turn the white feathered boa inside out.
As they were leaving the restaurant, a waiter passed by holding a plate of lobster. Descole screamed and cried as he ran into the men's room, where he puked his dinner.
After eating, the two decided to go see a movie. They accidentally walked into the wrong theater, which was playing Attack of the Giant Lobsters VII. Descole screamed and cried again, puking the rest of his dinner.
Finally, they were home, alone.
Descole looked around the bedroom.
"Is your kid still awake?"
"Goodness, no! He's not my kid-"
"OH THANK GOD!"
"That would be my apprentice, Luke. Don't worry," Layton reassured him, "I sent him to buy some milk at the grocery store on the other side of town. He should be back tomorrow evening and, if not then, perhaps by the next. So umm…"
Layton fiddled with his fingers.
"Why don't you turn around and I'll slip into something more comfortable?"
"Oh, I know this part!" Descole spun around. "This is when you surprise me with sexy lingerie."
"Oh god dammit," Layton said with a black stocking half-way up his leg. "Shall we just skip this part then?" He shut the dresser and walked over to Descole. "Let me see your hot bod again."
He undressed Descole. It took him twenty minutes.
Layton thanked God for seconds tonight.
"Oh, Descolay. You're so mandsome. May I take off your mask?"
"NO!" Descole panicked! "I mean, uh, I can't take it off because it's super glued to my face." (This actually wasn't a lie.)
"That's perfectly fine." Layton stroked the mask. "I like mysterious."
"Y-you do?"
Behind the mask, Descole's eyes twinkled, but that could also be because he used glitter super glue.
"Yes, I do. Now if you don't mind..."
"Oh, right."
Descole shoved Layton, who flew across the room and landed directly on top of the bed. This would have been almost impossible for Descole to do with his physique, but when you're sexed up this much you become Superman. He hopped on top of Layton, causing him to shout.
"Wait! It is ungentlemanly to not use protection or lubrication! Look in the drawer next to you!"
"There's a puzzle here."
"You can solve in in three moves!"
"Fuck my ass. Okay, here it goes…...Got it."
Descole rummaged quickly among the items in Layton's drawer. Rubix cube, clothes hanger in the shape of a question mark, excavating tools….what does he plan on doing to me?
"Did you find them yet?"
"Found them!"
He shut the drawer and applied the necessities to his own necessity.
"KY more like GAY Y. OKAY HERSHEL, HERE I COME!"
Descole belly flopped onto the bed and whispered into Layton's ear,
"Are you ready to rumble?"
They "went down" to business.
"Oh Jean!"
"Mrmphh."
"Feels…so…good. Would you..like to hear a puzzle?"
Remembering that it is rude to speak with food in your mouth, Descole proceeded to communicate using sign language. Layton put two hint coins over his nipples and asked,
"What is round and pink and wants to be white all over?"
Descole signed "Uh, ew." He then let go and stole Layton's hat and began to to do disappearing acts with his new assistant's penis. These illusions evoked sexually disturbing noises from Layton.
His moans are driving me over the hedge! Descole thought. It was time to make the big move.
"I'M GONNA WRECK IT" Descole shouted and put it in.
This process repeated itself over and over that night, and even inspired a home video called Hershel and Jean's Best Night Ever 2012. Life was good for our hero.
In the morning, Descole woke to the cliché sounds of birds chirping outside. But the birds weren't chirping. They were mating, right in front of the window.
"Hershel, look!"
Descole punched Layton in the side. He woke up and they watched the birds together.
"It's us, Hershel. We are two birds fucking in front of a giant window, that window being our future."
"I'll go downstairs and make some tea, okay Descolay?"
"AGAIN WITH THE TEA!" Descole rolled his eyes. "Do you have any Go-Go Juice?"
"I'm afraid not. Do you have a favorite flavor?" Hershel asked.
"Just get me something fruity. I'm a fruity guy."
Layton put on his robe with, you guessed it, puzzle shaped patterns, and went down the stairs to make tea for two.
Now that Descole was all alone, he investigated the room. Hanging up on the wall was an old photo of a baby playing with a toy. Taking a closer look, he recognized the sexy eyes. This was a photo of baby Hershel Layton, looking just like he did (what was to Descole) one day ago.
"I see that you've found Thomas and me." One paragraph later and Layton was already back with the fruity tea.
"Thomas? You're MARRIED?"
"Haven't you heard of Thomas the tank engine, Descolay?"
"I've heard of a lot of things before but never somebody getting married to a truck." Descole sipped his tea while giving Layton the eye, not that Layton would even notice.
"Good heavens, Descolay. I'm talking about the TOY. See?"
As Layton pointed at the toy in the picture, a sick feeling came over Descole's stomach.
That's…
"That Thomas the tank engine was my favorite toy. My grandparents gave it to me…before they both spontaneously combusted right before my eyes! The flames were so bright and the sight so horrid that it shrunk my eyes!"
Layton took a long sip from his tea cup while Descole just stood, horrified, hoping Layton would shut up now.
"But my story of woe doesn't end there."
Descole spit out his tea.
"FUCK!"
"Thirty years ago," Layton continued, "somebody stole the only thing I had to remember my grandparents by. And that is person is YOU!"
Layton pointed dramatically at Descole, who dropped his cup of tea and slipped as he tried to make a run for it.
"Descolay, I'm sorry! I was only practicing for when I find the culprit!"
"Oh! Ha ha!" laughed Descole, covered in scalding hot tea. "I knew that! I was just helping you practice."
"Oh, Descolay." Layton helped him back to his feet. "You're such a good man. But when I find that person, I will rip his balls off. I'll never forget his –"
"OKAY time for me to go! It was nice meeting and banging you, Hershel!"
"Jean, wait!"
Then out of fucking nowhere, a rock smashed through the window. There was a note attached to it. It read;
French man,
We know who, what, where, when and why you are. You've probably put it together already but we're watching you.
"These assholes didn't even sign the letter. Now how am I going to know who's watching me?"
"Wait a minute, what's that?" Layton pointed to the back of the note. They flipped it upside down and to Descole's horror…
It was drawing of a lobster.
Descole puked on the spot. He wiped his mouth.
"These fuckers have gone too far."
