Plan B: Improvise

For jelliclesongs123

"Just remember, if we're caught, you're deaf and I don't speak English," Victoria said.

"Relax. Everything's gonna be fine," Plato said to his queenfriend.

"I very much doubt that," Victoria objected.

"He's right," Jemima tried to convince her friend. "We'll be in and out before you know it."

"Whatever. You can be glad I agreed to do this."

"But we need you, Vic," Jemima said. "Now, off you go," she said as she opened the toolbox.

Victoria muttered some more doomsday predictions as she stepped into the box, folding her own body in half in order to be able to close it.

"You know the plan, right?" Jemima verified before closing the lid.

"Yes, now get it over and done with, I can't stay in this position forever."

Jemima closed the box and handed it to Plato. "You know what to do?"

Plato nodded as he lifted the box (he had no trouble doing that, since he was used to lifting his queenfriend) and crossed the street to knock on the door of the large house. About a minute later, the hatch in the door opened and a cat inspected the tom standing in front of his door.

"Yes?" the tom asked in a grumpy voice.

"Good afternoon, sir," Plato said as he briefly lifted the hardhat they had found on the Junkyard. "You are Mr. Jones?"

"Yes," Bustopher answered. "Who are you?"

"I'm… uh… George!" Plato made up. "I'm here to check your gas meter."

Bustopher grunted. "Does that have to happen today?"

"I'm afraid so, sir."

"Well, come in then."

Plato walked through the hatch, and after a lengthy struggle managed to pull the toolbox inside through the hole as well.

"Well," Plato said as he subtly placed the box next to the stairs, "Where's the meter?"

"Downstairs," Bustopher answered as he pointed at the basement door. "I'm sure you'll find it."

"Oh, I'd rather have you accompany me, sir," Plato said.

"I beg your pardon? Why?"

"Because… uh… there's a pawprint detector on most gas installations?"

"What?"

"Yes, yes, I'll need the pawprint of the housecat."

Bustopher reluctantly followed Plato to the basement. "Don't I know you from somewhere?" he asked.

"Oh, I hardly think so, sir," Plato denied as their voices died away in the distance.

As soon as she knew it was safe, Victoria climbed out of the toolbox and walked up the stairs and into the nearest bedroom. She opened the window and Jemima hopped inside. She walked right up to a cabinet, opening a drawer and starting to look through the stuff.

"Could you now please tell me why we're here?" Victoria said.

"I sure can," Jemima answered as she grabbed something in the drawer and pulled it out. "For this." She held up a framed picture. Victoria took a closer look, and saw it depicted a young, silver tabby kitten, with a mouth full of food.

"Really?" she asked. "This is why we went through all this trouble?"

"Do you know who this is?" Jemima asked.

"Of course I know who that is!"

"Well? It was totally worth it, right? I've wanted to see kittenhood pictures of my dad for ages! Isn't he cute?"

"What is going on here?" a loud voice came from the door. Bustopher Jones (who had managed to walk two sets of stairs in such a short time!) was standing in the doorway, staring at the two queens that had entered his house.

Victoria and Jemima exchanged frightened looks, before Victoria eventually took initiative and started to talk.

"Excuseer mij, meneer, maar ik heb niet begrepen wat u zei. Kunt u het nog eens herhalen?"

Bustopher didn't know how to respond. "… I beg your pardon?"

"Het spijt me zeer, maar ik spreek geen Engels. En ik ben bang dat mijn collega hier u ook niet zal kunnen helpen, zij is namelijk doof," she continued with a meaningful look at Jemima.

"Could you please explain to me what's going on right now?" Bustopher asked Jemima.

Jemima exchanged a look with Victoria, and then turned to Bustopher. "I'm sorry, I can't hear what you're saying. I'm deaf, you see."

"You're what?"

"What?" Jemima asked.

"Wat?" Victoria asked.

"Wait… don't I know you from somewhere?"

"I don't understand what you say!"

"Ik begrijp niet wat je zegt, kerel!"

"Aren't you my nephew Munkustrap's daughter?"

"Could you articulate better? I can't read your lips if you talk like this!"

"Kan iemand mij alsjeblieft uitleggen wat hier aan het gebeuren is?"

"Okay, that's it! The two of you will get out of here right now!"

"No, I'm afraid I've never been to British Columbia."

"Ik zou zo graag op je muil slaan, je hebt er geen idee van."

"Get out! Both of you!"

"I think the first one was better."

"Trek je 'n stem of twee, drie tegelijk uit de la, bij Rossini duetten, en walsen van Strauss?"

"Get out! This is your last warning!"

"Oh, I'm very sorry," Jemima said, hiding the picture behind her back as she walked past Bustopher, "but I'm afraid I can't stay for dinner. I have to get home in half an hour. Anyway, thanks and bye!"

"Ik sta echt versteld dat je ons niet herkend hebt, maar goed," Victoria said as she followed Jemima.

Bustopher stood at the top of the stairs, confused beyond belief, as the two queens walked down the stairs and out the door. Shortly after, Plato picked up his toolbox at the bottom of the stairs and looked up at Bustopher.

"Well, everything seems to be in order, Mr. Jones, see you next year." After that, he walked out as well.

Bustopher Jones was speechless. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and walked back into the bedroom, when he suddenly realized something.

"Wait!" he exclaimed. "What about the pawprint detector?"

The End

A/N: In case you're wondering, Victoria was speaking Flemish. It would've been more appropriate if it would've been Jemima of course, because Veerle Casteleyn is Belgian (one of the few reasons I'm proud of my country). Don't ask why Victoria can speak Flemish.