Chapter Eight:
Don Juan
DeMarco
Johnny woke up with yet another throbbing headache. I wonder if the headache
is the only physical after affect from previous events or that it’s the
physical after affect of traveling to a different movie? Seeing has how
he’d probably be doing this kind of thing for a while he decided to think about
the details. He decided to consciously try not to hit his head this time and
see what happened the next morning when he woke up. He also decided that it was
high time to find out where he was, however much he wanted to remain ignorant
of it.
Johnny opened his eyes and found himself in a large, colorful, sweet scented
room, with a pool in the middle. He was lying on a bed constructed of many
Arabic styled pillows, several hundred women surrounded him, and he himself was
naked, once again. Oh dear God, I’m Don Juan. Instead of panicking over
the disastrous possibilities that this character might generate, like he might
have done a few days ago, he got up and made sure that he was dressed in his
disguise first, just in case a guard happened to come in and discover that he
was not one of the harem. Indeed, he found his disguise close by, no doubt
placed conveniently in case he should have to dress hastily.
After hiding himself in his disguise Johnny thought that he should start to
plan how to avoid the Sultana Gulbeyaz, since an escort of some sort would
obviously be arriving soon to take him to the Sultana’s room. I could tell
her I have a headache…I wouldn’t even have to fake it. I could tell her I’m
having problems…she wouldn’t believe that. Maybe I should just throw myself
limp on her bed and fall asleep…that’s worth a try if the headache excuse
doesn’t work. I could claim that I’m really a woman…that definitely wouldn’t
work. Hmm, chloroform…what I need is some chloroform. I wonder…
Then the huge, gold door opened at the top of the staircase and a guard
entered. He marched down the stairs, took Johnny by his arm and led him up the
stairs, out through the door and down the hall. Well, it couldn’t hurt to
ask. “Excuse me, sir?” Asked Johnny. The guard did not stop walking but
inclined his head to show that he was listening. “Do you happen to have any
chloroform or something similar that I could…you know…use?” The guard slowed
his pace and then looked at Johnny. Johnny gave him an innocent smile with a
bit of mischief in it.
Johnny had no idea what chloroform could be used for in the
bedroom, but he decided that the guard didn’t need to know, only that he was
planning to use it in the bedroom. If people don’t get it, they pretend they
do, and so it proved, because the guard gave Johnny a wicked smile, a hardy
laugh and a knowing nudge in the ribs and then led him into a doctor’s
examination room. There the guard opened a cabinet and took out a small bottle
of clear liquid and a white cloth, handed them both to Johnny and then they
both continued their journey down the long, fancy hallway. Johnny stared
incredulously at the items the guard at given him, and then stared
incredulously at the guard. He gave me the chloroform…he actually gave me
the chloroform. This guy is a complete and utter idiot! His loss, my gain, I
suppose. Johnny shrugged and turned his attention back to the hall.
They finally reached the Sultana’s door. The guard dramatically
swung the red and gold doors open to reveal the Sultana lying on her bed.
Johnny froze and stared at the Sultana. The guard pushed him forward into the
room and slammed the doors behind him. Johnny smiled dumbly. “Hi.” He said with
a shy and awkward wave, and then reached up to his head to run the hand
nervously through his hair. Oh boy…
“Good morning, my daring Don Juan.” She said softly. “Come to me.”
She waved her hand in a gesture for him to join her. Johnny walked towards the
bed, but averted his eyes. Okay, right now you’re acting like Johnny Depp
trying to avoid someone. Time to start acting like Don Juan DeMarco. I’m a wild
animal! I’m a hot tiger! I am a…lost and frightened kitten is what I am. No!
I’m…I’m Don Juan DeMarco, idiot! Yeah! Johnny gathered his courage,
channeled Don Juan for all he was worth and looked into the Sultana’s eyes with
a feigned passion that surprised even Johnny. Thank you, Don Juan!
“Good morning, Sultana. I have a surprise for you.” Said Johnny as
he crawled onto the bed. He lifted up the bottle of chloroform and the white
cloth doubtfully. The age-old theory proved true once again. The Sultana had no
idea what he was going to use the chloroform for, but she pretended that she
did.
“My, my, you are a creative boy, aren’t you?” She commented.
Johnny held back laughter as he crawled closer to her. Don’t you dare laugh! I
can’t help it, I feel so ridiculous and these people are such idiots!
“Lay back, Sultana.” Said Johnny as he pushed her back onto the
bed. He then fiddled with the cover on the chloroform bottle and poured some onto
the white cloth. Well, here goes nothing. Johnny placed the cloth over
the Sultana’s nose and mouth. “Breath deeply, Sultana.” Said Johnny quietly.
She was soon fast asleep. “Sultana?” No answer. “Yes! I rule!” Just then the
Sultana’s husband burst through the door. You were saying, Donnie? Oh,
you are hilarious. Donnie, indeed. Do something, crackpot! “Good morning,
Sultan, mister, sir.” Said Johnny in a falsetto voice as he covered his face
with his veil and bowed down.
“I’ll have you beheaded for this, Don Juan!” Johnny stood up and jumped across to the other side of the bed, away from the Sultan.
“I know not what you mean by this Sultan, who is Don Juan and why
do you call me thus?” Said Johnny, continuing in falsetto. Why do you call
me thus? Oh boy, I’m an idiot.
“You don’t fool me, DeMarco! I know who you are! I’ll kill you
with my bare hands!” Johnny traded his falsetto voice for panic.
“You can’t! What are you doing here? This doesn’t happen in the movie! How…what…why…go ahead and kill me now.” The Sultan dived across the bed at Johnny. Johnny ducked and crawled under the bed to the opposite side. The Sultan suddenly noticed his wife.
“Why doesn’t our noise wake her? What have you done to her?”
Demanded the Sultan. Now would be an opportune moment to calm him down.
“I guess I just wore her out.” Commented Johnny dryly with a
shrug. The Sultan roared and dived towards Johnny again. Nice move, that calmed
him down real well! I couldn’t help myself! That seems to happen quite a
lot.
“Listen Sultan, don’t you think we could work this out in a
civilized manner? Maybe sit down, have a couple drinks? I’d be willing to sit
down with you, as long as you sat at the other end of the room.”
“What are you trying to say?” Shouted the Sultan. Johnny shrugged as
he backed up towards the door.
“Nothing, aside from that you’re really starting to scare me right
now and I’d rather stay as far away from you as possible. Besides that, your
breath stinks. What did you have for lunch? Garlic marinated shit?” Johnny tried
the door handle behind him, only to find that it was locked from the outside.
The Sultan dived at Johnny again. Johnny, having no where else to go,
instinctively threw out is hand and soaked the Sultan’s face in chloroform. The
Sultan tackled Johnny onto the floor and they both rolled around until the
chloroform began to take effect and the Sultan passed out.
Johnny pushed the Sultan off of him and stood up. A wave of
dizziness and confusion followed. Johnny would have fallen over if he hadn’t
caught himself on the bedpost. The dizziness increased as did Johnny’s
disorientation. He sniffed the air and caught a strange scent. Johnny looked
down at his chest and found that his shirt was soaked in chloroform. “It must
have been soaked up off the Sultan’s face and clothes when he tackled me.”
Commented Johnny, although he noticed that his words were starting to slur.
Johnny laughed drowsily. “Tough luck not waking up without a headache after
this.” Johnny looked up at the lighted ceiling and noticed that the lights were
beginning to fade. Johnny crawled laboriously up onto the heavenly bed in which
the Sultana slept and laid himself down. “I’m going out again.” The potent
poison quite o’er-crows my spirit. Yet not so far gone that he can quote
Shakespeare yet again. Thank God for variety. And then he was out.