Title:Moulin Mishaps: Fowl Play
Author: Susan
Rating: PG
Summary: Chickens?
Notes: This is my new series. Like
“Temple Mischief”, it is meant to be funny, as it is only random snippets
from the life of Christian.
Disclaimer: Don’t own ‘em…they belong to Baz.
I just play with them and
cause them to do stupid things.
Feedback: You betcha.
Archive: Let me know where it goes or I’m going to send those rabid
circus monkeys out.
Coke
spew warning is in effect, Allison. :)
Again,
its for sam, since she was the creative insanity behind it.
“For
the last time Toulouse, the line is ‘The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is
JUST TO LOVE and BE LOVED IN RETURN,” Christian snorted as his eyes narrowed
and his sight darted over to Satine standing next to the small stove.
“I
know, I know Chwistian...you’ve towd me a FOUSAND times! I will wemember…”
Christian sighed in response and crossed the room.
“Now,”
the writer started as he pulled his lady love into his arms.
“As the sitar says these words, the courtesan looks up, suddenly
realizing what she has thrown away and calls out to the Sitar Player….”
~
+ ~
“Dear
Duke, you mustn’t worry so…Mademoiselle Satine is simply rehearsing with her
fellow cast members,” Harold persuaded, without much luck.
“That’s
enough, Zidler. I am going to find
her. This has gone far enough!”
With that, the enraged Duke stormed out of Harold’s tower office and
toward the small apartment building across the street.
~
+ ~
“Toulouse,
is dinner ready yet?” Satie asked, poking his head up through the hole in the
floor leading to Christian’s room.
“Not
quite, Satie…the chicken’s not even in the pot yet!” Christian replied for
the dwarf as he set to boiling potatoes.
“Christian,
do you think…” Satine started, and trailed off as she swooned.
Christian, seeing this, dropped the knife in his hand into the boiling
pot as he dove forward, catching Satine around the waist and shoulders as she
fainted.
“Satine?
Satine!!!” he cried out, frantic, as he tried to shake her awake.
Knowing he’d never make it across the room in time, Christian carefully
knelt and laid her on the floor of the apartment, leaning over her as he brushed
her hair from her face. Satie and the Argentinean appeared in the hole in the
floor, asking what had happened, and at that exact moment, the Duke burst in the
door, calling for her.
He
stared, slightly confused as he stared at the writer hovering above the
unconscious girl.
“What?
Foul Play?” No sooner were the
words out of his mouth than an awful screeching started and a chicken came
fluttering and squawking into the room, wings flapping madly about the Duke’s
head, Toulouse squealing and chasing after it as fast as his crippled legs would
carry him.
The
Duke let out a wail as his arms flailed, trying to knock the feathered beast
back and succeeding only in sending himself out the door through which he had
come, landing with a thump in the carpeted hall, the chicken in his lap.
Christian
and the Bohemians had been so caught up in watching the spectacle that none had
noticed Satine’s return to consciousness.
A slight chuckle alerted Christian to her presence and he smiled, still
trying not to laugh as the Duke tried to push the chicken out of his lap.
© Draickin und Phoenix
Last Updated: