"Well you must have at least heard about this girl?"
Ugh! CRRRRRRRRRR, thump thump splash.
Up and down the washing board "Well Gretchen says…"
CRRRRRRRRRRRRR, thump thump splash.
Up and down the washing board. A sour, soapy burp.
"…since when has Gretchen got anything right?"
Wriiiiiiiiiiing, the water out.
Crack! Burp!
"I mean really, this girl shows up in rags…"
Squeeeeze, crunch! Pop!
"…doesn't speak"
Fwoomph!
Sebastian's head spun and he clamped on desperately to the terrible piece of cloth that got him into this mess in the first place. The maids, after they had (finally) finished (VIGOROUSLY) washing the mornings load of laundry, gave the clothes one last good shake before hanging them on a long clothesline for them to dry.
". . . not my idea of a princess. If Eric's looking for a girl, I know a couple of highly available ones right here . . ."
The gossip droned on in the back ground but as Sebastian was trying to get his wits back about him all he could see was the ground being pulled farther and farther away.
Crabs weren't meant to fly!
A leap, a prayer and another thump sent Sebastian tumbling over the windowsill he had intended to land on and falling onto a cool marble surface. He slowly massaged his temples trying not to burp up more bubbles when a low hissing noise caused him to open his eyes.
Dear Neptune.
Sebastian sat up with a gasp as his vision was filled with more monstrosities against fish than he had ever seen in his life.
A bloody fish, laying on a cutting board, butchers knife still cleaved in its torso. Large shinning pots filled up all the space on a fiery stove, overflowing with bubbles and steam, another half a fish frying in a pan and worst of all…
I maybe be sick.
Crabs.
Three to be precise.
Dead and stuffed sat on some lettuce with tooth picks and olives stuck in their backs. Sebastian's brain answered before his stomach could and he fell backwards with a thud on the (slightly sticky *shudder*) counter top and his world faded black.
Sebastian hadn't been out long before he woke up to the sound of some loud and (in his opinion obnoxious) humming.
Still trying to work through the soap induced headache horror of earlier and the nauseating stench of fish, Sebastian carefully scuttled around the countertop to find the source of the music.
Just stay focused, yes. Focused! Ignore 'de smell, ignore the sticky counter. Ignore the eep!
Go around the fish, around the dead fish, no not dead. You are not going to die in here Sebastian!
The humming grew louder and Sebastian could make out lyrics now as he peered cautiously around the corner of a jar. "Les poisons, les poisons, how I love les poisons! Love to chop and to serve little fish!"
A strange little man was bent over digging around in a cupboard. He pulled out a bowl of fish and with a twirl he sat the bowl on the counter with a grin. He cradled a fish gently to his face (Sebastian thought his smile turned a shade darker) before he threw it on the counter and pulled out a large butchers knife.
Chop chop chop!
Three head went flying with each crack like lightning on the cutting board.
"First I cut off their heads, then I pull out the bones, ah mais oui, ca c'est toujours delish!"
Spines, and head went flying and Sebastian tried not to be sick, oh so violently sick.
Running away, running away! Must get out!
"Les poisons, les poisons, hee hee hee, hah hah hah! With the cleaver I hack them in two I pull out what's inside, and I serve it up fried. God, I love little fishes, don't you?"
Heads! A head fell in front of Sebastian blocking his escape route. A turn around the corner, hiding behind another jar Sebastian paused. A silver platter and an empty space on the counter, steeling hs nerves for the dangerous trek when several sizzling slices of fish whizzed by landing with a splat on the tray.
Here I go Neptune help me!
He darted forwards and dived under a stray piece of lettuce gripping it tightly over his head.
"Here's something for tempting the palate, prepared in the classic technique. First you pound the fish flat with a mallet!"
Thud!
Sebastian and several other assorted ingredients on the table went flying straight up in the air.
"Then you slash through the skin, give the belly a slice. Then you rub some salt in 'cause that makes it taste nice."
Quivering under his flimsy lettuce shield Sebastian quivered with each step. His song slowed and Sebastian felt his blood run cold.
"Zut alors, I have missed one!"
The lettuce was torn from his claws but all Sebastian could do was pull his head farther back into his shell and try not to shake with fear.
"Sacre bleu, what is this? How on earth could I miss, such a sweet little succulent crab?"
He was picked up and held uncomfortably close to the chef's rather large nose. He could practically count the hairs sticking out and those two curling strands that made up his mustache. Gross.
"Quel dommage, what a loss! Here we go in the sauce!"
With a skip and a flick of the wrist Sebastian was flung into a bowl a cocktail sauce. The horseradish burned his nose and eyes worse than the soap water.
"Now some flour, I think, just a dab."
Ah Choo!
"Now I stuff you with bread, it don't hurt,"
OUCH!
"Cause you're dead! And you're certainly lucky you are"
Pleh! Sebastian spat the crumb stuffing as his stomach protested being flung around again.
"'Cause it's gonna be hot, in my big silver pot. Toodle loo mon poisson, au revoir!"
With a kick worthy of a line dancer the strange French chef lobbed the small very much still alive towards, yes, a big silver pot.
Just barely managing to snag (and singe) his claw on the rim Sebastian immediately felt all the flour (and maybe even some of his red color) steam off as he popped out of the pot back onto the chopping block.
Haha.
The chef raised an eyebrow when he heard the small plunk that sounded like a crab being dropped on the counter.
"What is this?"
The prongs of a fork squeezed Sebastian's shell and he was brought slowly up…
Now?
…to one beady eye trying to peer into the depths of his shell.
Now.
YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!
His cry of pain echoed through the kitchen and Sebastian was once again air-born landing precariously on the edge of a pan simmering with gods-know-what on the stoves. Quick reflexes for the rather stout man he was, Sebastian barely managed to jump back onto the handle of the pan causing Louis to grab the scalding contents. His eyes crossed red with anger and pain as he jumped back waving his injured limb while Sebastian was thrown forwards onto the floor.
The pan clattered forwards onto his foot,
Thump!
Thump!
Thump!
He jumped up in down in pain, while Sebastian dove for the safety of under a cabinet.
Zing.
Wha-?
Thud!
A rain of glittering cutlery framed safety.
Up and under, up and under. Ah ha! Have a taste of your own sauce Mr. Chef!
The bowl shattered on his head, still wielding his butcher's knife, Louis felled the offending cabinet in one strong downward strike, only to see the crab trying to escape the other way.
Whack!
His own terrified face stared back at him from the huge knife now embedded several inches into the stone floor.
Back-pedal! Into…the shelves!
His butcher's knife gone, Louis picked up the next 'weapon' closest to him; a large wooden hammer….
All thoughts of making a mess, dinner waiting, food cooking, everything flew out of Louis's head the moment that cursed crustacean had the nerve to play dead and pinch his nose. Not even the fear of Carlotta punishing him was enough to cut through his anger and with his only thought being, "I'm going to catch that crab and filet him alive!" Louis dove into the shelf filled with the silver and wine glasses and began swinging his hammer./pre